Rebirth
by whatifellinlovewith
Summary: She broke something wonderful, tore it to shreds. She left him, and now she needs to come home. She needs to fix this, for him, for them. All of them. A post 8x02 story.
1. Chapter 1

**Rebirth**

* * *

She sinks back, falling onto the tiled floor, her back hitting the bathtub and her head lolling against the edge. She splays her hand over her stomach, low on her abdomen, as the first tears fall.

 _No. No. No._

She wipes at her cheeks and flings the tears away. Her chest aches. Her throat burns. There's an incessant throbbing in her stomach. Her phone is ringing in the other room, probably with a new case, but she doesn't have the energy or the will to go get it.

 _This can't be happening_.

She chokes on nothing, on air, and sputters into her palm. Her nails dig into her stomach, her eyes squeezed shut as she wills the throbbing to go away, hopes and prays that she won't have to lunge for the toilet again.

 _Why is this happening now?_

Forcing her head off the edge of tub, she curls into a ball. Her vision is blurred with tears, her nose running. She wipes at her face messily, doesn't care about how it looks. Her knees press hard against the tiles, her palms joining together.

Too weak to do much else, she crawls into the bedroom.

Shaking, she reaches for her phone, almost dropping it with clumsy fingers. She sets it on her thighs and dials the number. It rings once, twice, before he answers, and she puts him on speakerphone.

"Beckett? We got a fresh one. I tried to call, but there was no answer."

She sinks back against the side of the bed, ignoring the pain where the frame digs into her spine. It's nothing compared to everything else right now.

"Espo." Her voice is weak, shaky. The word makes her chest hurt even more, has her sucking in a stuttering breath.

"Whoa, Beckett, you sound like shit. You okay?"

 _Tell me something I don't know_.

"I will be," she mumbles. "But I'll be late getting in today."

"Yeah, okay. Take all the time you need," he says. "Hope you feel better."

 _Doubt it._

"Thanks."

She hangs up before she can hear his goodbye and drops the phone onto the floor. Rolling onto her side, she crosses her arms over her chest. She drags her knees up, wraps an arm around them.

Curled up in a ball on her hotel room floor. Five weeks ago, this was the last place she thought she would be.

Curled up in a ball on her hotel room floor… _and probably pregnant._

Yeah, definitely the last place she saw herself.

A tear falls from her eye, lands on her arm. She wipes at her face again before any more can come. Before she shatters to pieces, sobbing and alone and _pregnant_.

Well, maybe not.

It's her last hope, the possibility that she's _not_ pregnant. That all this is caused by stress, a new job, leaving Castle, investigating a very dangerous case.

 _Maybe._

She presses her hands hard against the floor, pushes herself onto her knees. A test. She needs to go get a pregnancy test. A stupid stick to pee on that'll tell her how her life is falling apart.

Her knees shake and threaten to give out when she stands, her palms pressed hard against the mattress. Her head spins, gravity betraying her, threatening to throw her back down.

 _No._

She's stronger than this. She survived a bullet to the chest. She can handle a little morni– nausea. She can handle a little nausea.

She stumbles to the door, wobbling, probably not in a straight line.

A pregnancy test. She needs a pregnancy test.

* * *

It feels wrong, walking back into the hotel room with the plastic bag in her hand.

Whenever she pictured this moment, she was at the loft, Castle waiting outside the bathroom door, his excitement driving her up the wall. Her own, in those moments when she was hopelessly hopeful, had her hands shaking, her lower lip bruised by her own teeth, her heart thundering against her ribs.

Well, her hands are shaking. And her teeth are digging into her lip. And her heart is pounding so hard it hurts.

But he's nowhere to be found. The hotel room isn't the loft.

This isn't what she imagined. What she wanted. Not at all..

She walks into the bathroom, stomach churning. It smells. She still hasn't brushed her teeth after…this morning. But she has the test and if she doesn't take it now, she won't.

Her hand is shaking when she reaches into the bag, grabs the single box of two tests. She runs her nail under the tab, cutting through the glue and dumps the box's contents onto the vanity. Both tests clatter into the sink.

The shaking is violent when she reaches for one, tries to pull open the plastic wrapper.

 _Just take the stupid test, Kate._

She tugs the plastic stick out of its wrapper, drops onto the toilet.

 _Just pee on the damn stick._

She does, and sets the stick down on the vanity before flushing and dropping onto the floor. Her back hits the wall in front of the sink, leaving her staring up at where the test is balanced on the edge.

This isn't how this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to be waiting while holding his hand, his anticipation mirroring hers. Or figuring out how she could surprise him with the big news.

 _This isn't right._

She's crying again, stupidly pitiful, curled up in a ball on the filthy bathroom floor. Probably pregnant. Without her husband.

Her eyes burn as she wipes at them again so she can click her phone on to check the time.

 _Two minutes._ It's only been two minutes. The test needs three.

The back of her head hits the wall with a thud, the ache lingering only for a second. The burn in her stomach is worse now, throbbing even more, churning. Her eyes slit open, land on the toilet. She can't bring herself to crawl over to it, so she presses her hand against her stomach and wills it to calm.

She swallows back the bile threatening to rise in her throat.

Her fingers curl around her phone and lift it off the floor. She turns it on again.

 _Three minutes._ It's been three minutes. The test is done.

She's not sure she wants to know what it says.

And yet she presses her hand against the floor, slowly pushes herself up along the wall. Her knees quake, her heart thuds against her ribs.

She pinches the test between her thumb and forefinger, bringing it just close enough to see the result.

It falls to the floor a second later as she lunges for the toilet.

* * *

"Katherine Beckett?" calls a nurse.

She tugs her sweater lower and crosses her arms over her stomach as she stands. A shiver wells at the base of her spine. She fights to stay still.

 _You are not wearing a damn sign._

But it feels like she is, like everyone else in the waiting room with rounded bellies and husbands by their side can tell that she's pregnant, too. That her husband isn't here.

 _And who's fault is that?_

"Excuse me, Miss, could you please step on the scale?" asks the nurse.

She does, ignoring the numbers that tell her the obvious. She's lost weight without family meals and smorelettes for dinner, with all the time she's spent in the precinct gym, trying to work out her rage. Her efforts are always in vain.

"Looks good." The nurse taps her pen against her clipboard, leads her to a room. "Dr. Fields should be here in a moment. Change into the robe while you wait."

She tugs off her shirt and pants, pulls the pink fabric over her body. It's like another sign, so insanely obvious that she's thankful the exam room has no windows. Glad that nobody but her doctor will see her so…vulnerable.

She sighs, climbs onto the exam table, and waits.

Dr. Fields comes in with a friendly smile on her face. It reminds her of Castle.

"So, a positive home test, I hear?"

She nods, swallows back whatever is rising in her throat now. "This morning. Uh, thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

The OB waves her off. "No worries, Kate. I had an opening." She drops into her chair, holding the clipboard the nurse left on the door. "I take it this wasn't planned?"

"Uh, no. Not now, anyway." Because they hadn't been _not_ trying. But they hadn't planned this…situation. At all. "And I just… I'm freaking out and I need to know for sure."

Dr. Fields nods. "Understandable. Well, we have two options. I can run a blood test, but the results will take a few days. Or I can do a sonogram, but I have to warn you now that I don't know how far along you are, so your baby might not have a visible heartbeat."

 _No visible heartbeat._ It doesn't mean no heartbeat. "Uh, do the sonogram. I have to be… Rick and I, we haven't been together in like five weeks, anyway."

The words hurt, the admission that she left him for over a month, that she…

"Oh? Do you want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head. "Please, can we just…" She motions to her stomach, splaying her fingers across it.

"Of course. I just need you to lie down while I prepare the machine," says Dr. Fields.

She does, hands still on her stomach.

 _It's going to be okay._

The monitor is turned away from her when Dr. Fields begins the ultrasound, brows furrowed at the screen. And then her face breaks into a smile, and she turns the monitor around, points to a grainy, gray spot.

"You see that?" asks the OB. "That's your baby."

The tears that well in her eyes this time don't burn as much, and she doesn't feel weak when she doesn't wipe them away immediately.

Her baby. _Their baby._

"I would estimate that you're about eight weeks along, which means," she shifts something, changes the view slightly, "you see that tiny, lighter spot that flutters a bit?"

"Yeah." It's a breath, so awe-filled it's foreign to her own ears.

Dr. Fields smiles at her. "That's your baby's heartbeat. You can listen to it."

The air leaves her as the steady whooshing sound fills the room, but it doesn't hurt this time. The pain is gone.

Her baby has a heartbeat.

"Do you want a print of it?"

She nods, too eagerly, eyes still locked on the screen, on her _baby._ "Two, actually. I need to, uh, give one to my husband."

The door opens, and closes, the room falling dark. She reaches out for the paused image on the screen, brushes her fingers over the light spot in the middle of the image.

Her baby. _Their baby._

 _It's going to be okay._

* * *

 _Special thanks to Lindsey (ipreferwestside) for all the help._

 _Please keep your reviews focused on the **story** and not the show. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Rebirth**

* * *

She leaves the hospital with the sonogram pictures in her pocket, and every single time she stops, she pulls one of the prints out and traces the shapes with her finger.

The baby is about the size of a kidney bean. That's what Dr. Fields said. So tiny, in the picture and in reality. So innocent and fragile and the fact that she's responsible for this person weighs heavy on her shoulders.

 _I can do this._ _I will do this._

Besides, she's not in this alone. She has him. Well, she will have him. As soon as she tells him.

 _Just tell him, Kate._

Her fingers tighten around the picture, making the edges curl. Traffic jerks back into action in front of her and she drops it onto her lap, fingers curling around the steering wheel instead.

It's odd how something that once filled her with such childlike excitement suddenly has her chest constricted with dread.

Two months ago, she would have jumped into his arms with the pregnancy test in hand, or spent hours planning how to tell him that they're having a _baby._

Two months ago–

 _Screw it._

She reaches down, taking the picture in her hand again. She can make this special. She _will_ make this special. Well, better than her showing up at his door, crying and mumbling incoherently about a baby neither expected.

Yeah, he deserves effort. He deserves better than all of this, than her leaving him only to show up at his door pregnant a little over a month later.

She might not, but he does.

 _He deserves this._

She makes a detour. Instead of going straight to the loft, she finds herself at a nearby gift shop. The sonogram pictures are still in her pocket as she peruses the racks of gift bags. All she needs is a small one, pink or blue or, well, yellow will do, so she reaches for one that's the color of a canary.

Her fingers wrap around the first package of tissue paper, coming away with lime green.

 _Doesn't matter, Kate._

She pays, ignoring the young cashier's enthusiasm when she spots the picture, and leaves to the jingling of a bell.

She stares out at the New York City streets for too long before forcing herself to walk, to go to the loft.

To go home.

 _It's now or never._

* * *

Eduardo looks surprised to see her when he holds the door open for her, and she's shocked by how much that hurts.

"Welcome, Captain Beckett, Mr. Castle should be upstairs."

She smiles at him, nodding her head. "Thank you."

Her grasp on the handles of the gift bag tightens as she presses the button to call the elevator. While she waits, she leans against the wall and watches the little activity in the lobby that's so familiar, yet…not.

 _How can somewhere that was home for so long feel so foreign?_

There's a ding and the elevator doors open. She slips inside, hits the button to close the doors, unable to deal with small talk or being recognized.

She needs to just…do this. Just tell him.

 _He'll be happy._

She slips her hand into the pocket of her sweater so her fingers can trace the edge of her copy of the sonogram picture. The second print is now in the gift bag, surrounded by layers of green tissue paper, her name written neatly in the lower margin as though he would assume the picture's from someone else.

 _You're his wife, Kate. He'd know._

Her finger starts to sting from what she assumes is a paper cut. She doesn't care.

The elevator doors slide open to reveal her floor. She freezes, pressed against the elevator's cold, metal wall, the railing digging into the base of her back.

It's too familiar, an onslaught of memories. The beige walls, the bricks, the decor. The hallway that leads to the loft, to him, to her _home._

She catches the door just as it starts to slide shut, waits for it to open again before stepping off the elevator. Her hands are shaking again, her knees threatening to give out.

Just like the first time she walked this hall to end up at his door, the nerves have her debating turning away.

 _This is home. You can do this._

She bumps the bag against her thigh, traces the edge of the picture again.

 _He'll be happy._

When the door comes into view, her heart stutters and her stomach clenches. She swallows back the nausea. Or, well, tries to. Her palm presses hard against her stomach.

 _Be nice, baby._

She's walked across the threshold countless times, has knocked on the door for reasons good and bad, has been pressed up against it with him pressed against her. Nothing, none of those moments are comparable to this one. None of them have had her like this.

 _It's going to be okay._

She stares at the door for a long time. At the knob, wondering if she should just tell him herself. At the peephole, debating knocking and letting him open their home back up to her.

She does neither, the voices in the back of her mind making her grasp on the gift bag tighten.

 _Just do it._

She has to. She has to tell him. This is his baby, too. And she loves him. And she really wants to come home.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she drops the gift bag onto the floor between her and the door, knocks three times and runs off to hide in the stairwell.

She can tell him. She can't be there to see his reaction.

* * *

The way she's sitting reminds her of the bathroom. Except there's a wall instead of a bathtub, and no toilet nearby even though her stomach is putting her at risk of needing one.

 _No, no, no._

She pulls her knees up to her chest so she can rest her chin in the valley between them, her arms wrapping around her legs.

Her eyes are burning again, with tears too much like those from this morning, except she doesn't bother with wiping these ones away. Instead, she lets them soak through the fabric of her leggings.

 _What if he isn't happy?_

Her stomach lurches. She swallows it all back, the bile, the fear, the nerves.

 _He will be happy._

Her nails dig into her shins, her knees pressing hard against her eyes. Her toes dig into the soles of her shoes and her back aches.

 _He'll love this baby._

Her stomach lurches again, making her press herself harder against her thighs. It hurts, burns as she forces the contents of her stomach down, swallowing thickly to do so.

She just has to wait until he finds out, and then he'll probably let her borrow his bathroom.

Or he'll kick her to the curb because of everything she's done to him, to their marriage.

 _No, Kate. You're carrying his child. He'll treat you right._

She leans back again, hand curling around her knees as her head hits the wall. Her free hand scrapes across her stomach again, where she can feel it throbbing with nausea.

 _Can he not–_

The door creaks. She hears footsteps.

Her head pops forward, feet pressing hard against the floor. Once again, she has to swallow back the nausea that threatens to take over, has to blink back the tears burning in the corners of her eyes.

He's standing in front of her, lips pinched into a tight line. His eyes are blank, almost foggy. In one hand, he's holding the gift bag and a tuft of tissue paper. The sonogram picture is in the other.

'You– You're pregnant?"

It comes out as a stutter, quiet as a breath that has her nodding so very slowly.

"And it's…?" _Mine._

Her heart clenches with something she figures is anger, hurt at the fact that he could even think she would sleep with someone else, and yet all she does is nod again.

His face softens, lips falling open, eyes widening with awe.

The bag falls to the floor, the picture staying clutched between his fingers as he reaches for her, arm extended towards her, fingers welcoming her own.

She curls her hand around his, lets him pull her to her feet. His eyes stay locked on hers the entire time, still wide and awed and shocked.

She should say something, but words don't come easily. Her mind is a jumbled mess she's trying desperately to make sense of.

"Don't," he whispers. "Don't say anything. Not yet."

Her mouth opens around a protest, closes when she sees the look in his eyes.

His arms are around her, crushing her against his chest with the picture trapped between them, before she can process anything else. And she's sinking into his embrace, locking her hands behind his back as she listens to the steady beat of his heart for the first time in what feels like forever.

 _He's happy._

* * *

 _Once again, a **huge** thank you goes to Lindsey._

 _And, as always, please keep your review focused on the **story** and not the show._


	3. Chapter 3

**Rebirth**

* * *

She's home. And the first thing she does is dart to the bathroom to throw up.

 _Very romantic._

But he's there. Not holding her hair or rubbing her back, but lingering behind her. She knows he would do something if needed. As she sinks back onto the floor, he reaches over to flush for her.

She's left staring up at him again, just like she was in the stairwell.

"Morning sickness?" he asks.

She nods. "That's what the doctor said."

His face falls, just a bit. "I wish I could have been there."

"I know," she frowns. "I just… I wanted to make sure everything was okay before I turned our lives upside down. Again."

He nods slowly, as though trying to understand. "Yeah, I get it," he says. "It's just like you."

 _Oh,_ there's an undertone to his voice that tugs at her heart. Disapproving and hurt and angry and it has her pressing her hands hard against the tile, pushing herself up so she's sitting a little straighter.

"I would have done it no matter what, Castle. You know me. I like to have all the facts and know that everything is okay before I get excited about something."

That makes his eyes flicker, darting back to her face. "You're…excited?"

He sounds so desperate, so hopeful, just like he does every time they talk, every time she momentarily forgets why she's gone and almost lets him kiss her.

It has her pushing herself up off the floor completely, reaching out to curl her hand around his arm.

"We talked about kids. We want kids, right?" she whispers. "You know, you're gonna change most of the diapers and there's no way I'm letting you name our baby Cosmo."

His eyes flash again, with something she can't catch as his eyes dart to her hand, to her stomach. "I remember," he says. "But that was before…"

 _Before you left. Before you broken my heart. Before…everything._

"I know," she whispers. "I made a mess of things, but Castle…"

 _But…_ There is no but. She put everything on the line and he's the only one who can pull it all off.

"But we're having a baby," he finished for her.

She swallows. "Yeah," she whispers. "A baby."

"And that's good."

She smiles, feels it tugging ever so slightly at the corner of her mouth. "I think it is," she says. "I think it's…great. I think… I don't know what I think, but I know I'm excited."

He nods, just as slowly as before. "Yeah. A baby is good," he agrees. "A baby is…great."

It's half-hearted, weak. She knows that much. And though it tugs at her heart, grows painful in her chest, she can't ask for more from him.

He's already given her more than enough.

And yet his eyes meet hers, warm and sympathetic. "Do you want to borrow a toothbrush? And I can make you toast, see if that'll settle your stomach."

 _He's too sweet._

"That would be great. Thank you."

So he leaves her standing in the bathroom, her heart pounding with recognition of _home_ and her mind taunting her with the knowledge that things aren't fixed yet.

* * *

"How's that sitting?"

She swallows back the tiny bite of toast. "Well, I haven't thrown up yet, so that's good," she shrugs.

He frowns, forehead creasing with it. "Is it that bad?"

She shakes her head. "Not until today. I think it was… The signs were there before but today I admitted to myself that I _might_ be pregnant–"

"And then ended up being right."

"Yeah," she says. "It was all very…overwhelming and I think that made it worse."

He just nods.

 _Still overwhelming._

She manages to finish the toast, even with his gaze locked on her, on the top of her head. Her hand skims across her stomach afterwards, willing it to stay calm even as the silence threatens to send her running. To the bathroom or to the hotel, she's not quite sure.

 _When did this get so awkward?_

She swallows back a sigh.

 _When I left._

She blinks, forces her thoughts away, focussing instead on him as he drags the plate from in front of her.

"Do you want another one?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "I'll wait and see how this one sits first."

He nods, falling silent again as he takes the plate to set it in the dishwasher. She's left watching him from where she's sitting, wondering what he's thinking, feeling.

It's odd, scary when he's quiet.

 _Just say something, Kate. Start a conversation._

She swallows. "Dr. Fields says I'm at around eight weeks," she whispers. "She thinks we conceived about a week before I…left."

He turns back to her, a hint of a smile on his face. "The night we…?"

"Maybe," she shrugs, smiling back at him. "I sure didn't expect this that night, though."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Neither did I."

And _dammit,_ the silence is back and weighing heavily on her shoulders, fear and uncertainty along with the vivid memory of that night. The night they…might have made this baby.

 _No, Kate. Stop thinking about sex._

"Did, uh, Dr. Fields say anything else?"

It cuts through her thoughts, and she blinks to find him standing closer, shoulders square, eyes gleaming with quiet curiosity about this baby. Their baby. _His baby._

"She talked a lot about what I can expect with the pregnancy, wrote me a prescription for prenatal vitamins and wished me—uh, us well," she answers. "And I got to hear the heartbeat."

It's the wrong thing to say. But it's the truth.

Still, she regrets the words the moment she sees his face fall.

 _Just shut up, Kate. Stop upsetting him._

It falls silent again, but she doesn't dare speak.

 _Stop hurting him._

* * *

She wipes at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand as she walks back into the living room. Her stomach's still throbbing, her head spinning.

"Turns out toast doesn't sit very well either."

He turns to her. "Sorry. I shouldn't have… You probably wouldn't have eaten anything if I hadn't offered," he says, voice laced with apology.

"No. Don't apologize."

 _Please don't._

She walks around the couch, dropping on the end opposite from him. Her head falls against the cushions as she draws her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs, hands buried in her sleeves.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

 _Please understand._

She swallows as his eyes widen. The subtext is there, laced within the statement, so blatantly obvious. Her heart pounds violently against her rib cage, her breaths shaking, stuttering.

 _Please understand, Castle._

The silence drags on, his eyes still locked on hers, his whole body still. She wants to look away, feels bare under his gaze. All her fears and vulnerabilities out in the open again, just for him.

And after weeks without him and his silent understanding, the instinct to hide behind a laugh and an _I'm fine_ is back.

 _Say something. Anything._

Her nails dig into the heels of her palms, teeth doing the same to her lower lip.

Finally, he speaks, his voice barely a whisper. "Okay."

And it's so simple, but it has her sinking back against the cushions, eyes falling closed in relief, opening to find him still staring at her.

"So, I take it you don't want that second toast I offered?" he asks. It's a little louder now, but still quiet.

She shakes her head, forces a quiet laugh. "No. Morning sickness tends to kill the appetite."

He nods. She forces a deep breath as he looks away from her, his blue eyes closing. His fingers clench at his sides, fingers curling into fists around the fabric of his pants.

He looks…conflicted.

 _You hurt him._

His eyes open again, but stay locked on the wall. "What _do_ you want, Kate?"

"To eat?"

 _Stop being an idiot, Kate. Give him what he needs._

"No," he says, finally turning to look at her again. "From me. For us."

Her jaw clenches shut around the first answer that comes to mind.

 _I want us to be happy._

Because two months ago, them being happy was a given. It was reality, a fact of their present and their future. They were married and contemplating a family and everything was great. _Perfect._

 _And I just had to go and ruin it._

Two months ago, this pregnancy would have been everything she wanted. A good job, a wonderful husband and a baby. He would have peppered kisses to her face, to her stomach, whispering to her belly as she reminded him that the baby couldn't hear yet.

Instead, they're sitting at opposite ends of the couch. Without touching. Without smiling. Without…everything she thought they'd have.

 _It's all your fault, Kate._

She lets out a sigh, forces the image away. Wishful thinking, that's all it is now.

He's still staring at her, waiting, patient as a always.

She sucks in a breath, tightens her fists. "I want to come home," she answers. "I want us to be a family, you, me, Alexis and this baby. And I want…" A tear falls from her eye. "I want to know what you want from me, because I should be the one trying to fix this. I'm the one who…" _Left._

"You want to know what I want?" he asks.

She nods, buries herself deeper within the couch cushions.

He sighs, sinks back, looking almost…defeated. "I want you to come home, too. And I want a family," he says. "And I want the truth about why you left."

 _Fuck._

Her breath comes out in a stutter, another tear falling. "I… Castle, I can't. Not yet."

His eyes fall closed again. She closes her own just to avoid seeing the disappointment spread across his face. The hurt she put there.

And she slips her hand down, settles her palm over her stomach.

 _It has to be okay._

* * *

 _Again, a **huge** thank you to Lindsey for all her help._

 _And, as always, please keep your review focused on the **story** and not the show._


	4. Chapter 4

**Rebirth**

* * *

"You're sure I can stay?" she whispers. "I could go back to the hotel, at least until we're…better."

It hurts to say, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, but she's standing in their bedroom, staring at the evidence of her departure. Their bed, half made.

Her side. It's been left untouched since she left, and the realization has tears stinging behind her eyes again.

He comes to stand beside her, staring at the same thing she is.

"You're my wife," he says. "And you're carrying my child. I'm not going to…kick you out or send you to a hotel when you want to be here."

 _Here. At home._

She turns to him, letting the back of her hand drift across the back of his. "I don't just want to be here, Castle," she whispers. "I want us to be okay. If that means leaving and staying at a hotel until we can work things out, until I can tell you everything, then that's what I'll do."

 _I'll do anything. Everything._

He shakes his head at her, ever so slightly as it bows towards the ground. Her eyes lock on their hands, her left gently brushing against his right, her wedding ring a gleam between them.

"Stay," he says. "You want to stay, then stay."

She forces the nod, the barely audible _thank you_ she manages as she steps deeper into the room.

Last time he asked her to stay, she left. This time, she's powerless to deny him anything he asks for. She broke his heart too many times. He's waited for her after every single one. The least she can do is give him what he wants.

 _You don't deserve him, Kate._

And yet she can't keep her mouth shut.

"You know this isn't like you and Meredith, right? Or, well, I don't want it to be like you and Meredith," she whispers. "I don't want this to be…an obligation for you."

"It's not," he says. "I love you. Both you and the baby. I just…"

"You want the whole story," she finishes for him. "I get it. And Castle, I promise I'll tell you as soon as I can."

He nods, slow and hesitant and her heart clenches. He doesn't believe her, doesn't trust that she'll come to him as soon as she can. As soon as he's safe.

 _You will, Kate. You'll tell him as soon as he's safe._

"Are you going to bed now, too?"

He shakes his head at that. "I've been neglecting my writing in favor of PI cases lately. Gina will kill me if I don't get something written soon," he answers.

Biting her lip, she nods, even though she knows he's lying. Knows he doesn't plan on writing. It's in the flick of his eyes, the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

 _Don't push it._

"Okay. I'll…see you later, then?"

"Yeah," he agrees. "Goodnight, Kate."

He goes to walk away, but she catches his hand in hers before he can go. She brings their joined hands to her mouth, dusts a gentle kiss to his knuckles, lingering over his bare ring finger. If it was the other hand, she knows, she would feel the cold metal of his ring beneath her lips.

"Goodnight, Rick."

She lets him leave before she climbs into bed, curling up into a ball on her side, crying silently into her pillow as she stares at his.

 _We'll make it. We have to make it._

* * *

She wakes up to a churning stomach, the burn so bad it has her crawling off the bed and running for the bathroom.

Her stomach is already empty, and yet somehow the baby finds something to make her throw up. Her stomach throbs and her throat burns long after she collapses against the floor, eyes closed as she wills her body to calm, the tiles cold against her sweaty back.

His footsteps are quiet, the sound muffled by his socks, but it's enough to have her forcing her eyes open.

He's upside down, from her perspective, and leaning over her, brows furrowed, eyes ever so slightly wide with worry.

"You okay?" he asks.

She nods, head rolling against the floor.

"Morning sickness?"

She nods again. "Baby doesn't like me in the mornings, apparently." It's muttered and slightly slurred, her eyes threatening to close again as her stomach clenches.

His mouth opens, like he wants to say something, and then snaps shut again. And even from where she's lying on the ground, vision ever so slightly blurry with sleep, she can see him swallow.

"You weren't in bed this morning."

The words are out in the open before she even realizes they're true, and they leave her thinking back to when she woke up, the brief moments between consciousness and throwing up.

She'd woken up in the middle of the bed. He hadn't been there.

He shrugs. "I woke before you. Didn't want to risk waking you up."

But he's blinking too much, and his lips pinch together, into a thin line, when he finishes. He's lying. She knows him too well for him to hide it.

But she doesn't quite have the energy or the strength to confront him about it yet.

 _You're still lying to him anyway. Lying by omission._

Her stomach lurches, making her jerk forward, a hand flying up to her mouth as she gags. He catches her under her arms and lifts her onto her knees, allowing her desperate fingers to find the toilet bowl and tug the rest of her over it.

His fingers trail down her spine as she throws up.

It's the most he's touched her since their hug in the hallway.

She falls back, again. The tank top she's wearing has ridden up, letting bare skin press against the tile. The cold feels good, soothing. Hey eyes close.

Sleep. She wants to sleep.

 _No. You have to talk to Vikram._

Opening her eyes feels impossible, but she manages, forcing the words from her burning throat. "What time is it?"

"Does it matter?" he asks.

She nods. "I have to go to work."

 _I have to see Vikram and shut this thing down._

"But Kate, you're sick," he says.

"Not sick," she counters, "pregnant. I'll be fine. I'll just keep the garbage near."

 _I have to do this. Sick or not._

He frowns, but nods without saying another word. He barely looks at her as he helps her onto her feet, steadies her when she wobbles and leaves before she can even think of taking a step.

The loft is home, but it almost doesn't feel like it when she leaves for work without a kiss goodbye.

* * *

She doesn't take the elevator up to the gym. The way it rises and falls when it gets to her floor, she's learned, has her running for the nearest trash can or bathroom.

So she walks up every flight of stairs, one hand on the railing to keep her still unsteady body balanced on the points of her heels.

The precinct gym is almost always empty this time of day. It's only really occupied over lunch, or early in the morning, and occasionally after hours, when someone has nowhere to be. But during shift, it's always empty. Which makes it an easy place to meet Vikram without anyone noticing.

She pushes the door to the training area open to find him already leaning against the wall next to one of the sparring mats, tablet balanced in one hand, laptop under the opposite arm.

He takes one look at her outfit and shrugs. "So today you won't be taking your rage out on a punching bag."

That's the last thing she wants to do, one of the many things she doubts she's capable of right now.

"No," she says. "We just…We need to talk."

Vikram nods, pushing himself off the wall to take a step towards her. "Okay. What about?"

 _I can't do this. I can't…I can't forget. I can't…_

Her stomach clenches, making her wince. There's a lump in her throat, thick and heavy and making it hard to breathe and easy to cry. She forces it back, squeezing her eyes shut.

 _I can't. But I have to._

"We have to give this up."

It's rushed, too fast and desperate as she opens her eyes again, clamps her mouth shut around words that threaten to escape.

"What? Why?" he asks.

 _Never mind. Forget I said anything._

"We just have to, okay? I need you to not do any more research or tests or _anything._ I have a contact who might be able to keep us from being in serious danger, despite our short investigation," she says.

Her eyes stay locked on the floor. Looking up at him would be a mistake.

"What happened?" he asks. "Just two days ago you were desperate to finish this as quickly as possible and then you miss work for a day and suddenly decide to call it all off?"

She nods, because there's nothing else to say.

"Did you go back home? Do you think he's in danger?"

"No," she says. It sounds whiny, needy. "I mean, I did go home, but it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

She looks up at him, finally, her vision blurred with tears, a hand pressed hard against her stomach.

"I'm pregnant," she mumbles.

 _And I have to protect my baby._

* * *

 _Special thanks to Lindsey for all the help._

 _Please keep your reviews focused on the **story** and not the show._


	5. Chapter 5

**Rebrith**

* * *

She slams the door. It echoes loudly through the loft.

Her shoes get kicked off, are sent flying towards the wall. She doesn't bother reaching down to arrange them when they hit the floor. Instead, she just drops her bag, letting the thud echo after the lingering sound of the slamming door.

 _This is wonderful. This is just wonderful._

It draws him from his office. His hair is messy, face still tainted with lack of sleep. He looks a little worried, way too surprised.

"You're home?" he asks.

The way he says it stings. Not the happy way he used to say it, before pressing a kiss to her lips and explaining what he was making for dinner.

It's this new way, that only two days in, she's grown to hate.

"Yeah," she answers. "The boys still think I'm sick, so when I threw up for the fifth time, they sent me home, promising to look after my precinct. Sorry."

It might be a low blow. It might be sarcastic. She's not really sure.

It might even be serious.

 _Sorry you have to deal with me again. Sorry you don't want me here._

"Oh?"

She knows he's talking about the boys. And the fact that she got sent home.

She doesn't care.

The fact that he's not even reacting to her stupid excuse of an apology stings, stabs at her heart as much as the look on his face when she left did.

He doesn't notice that she feels unwelcome in what used to be their home. That part of her, a big part of her, thinks that he'd rather have her there than here, no matter how often he claimed to want to her back before. Believes that wanting her back and having her back are two different things, and he's now acting like he never should have bothered with either one.

Or worse, that he does notice, and just doesn't care enough to comment.

 _You hurt him first._

He's not talking about the apology. But she _needs to._

 _Just say it._

"I know you don't what me here, but–"

"What?"

 _Don't cry, Kate. Don't cry._

"You've been avoiding me," she says. "I've been here for two days and we've barely spoken. You say good morning and goodnight and wish me a good day at work, offer me food and that's _it._ " She sucks in a shaky breath, blinks back the burn behind her eyes. "You go to bed after I fall asleep, you're gone when I wake up. Castle, I don't even know if you're sleeping in our bed."

His mouth opens and closes around nothing. No words. No sound. And his eyes find the floor.

 _Please, we need to fix this._

"I know I hurt you. I know you doubt me. I get it. I would too," she says. It's a whisper now, voice quivering. She tries to blink away the tears that blur her vision, but it just sends them rolling down her cheeks. "But I… I want to fix things. And I can't, because you won't talk. You won't even let yourself be mad at me, Rick. Just…get mad at me."

She's crying. Begging. For a fight that might turn up a solution. That might…

"Let me fix this, Castle."

He doesn't say a word, doesn't look up from the floor.

 _Let me._

He won't.

She swallows, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"I think we should try counseling," she whispers, and he finally looks back at her. "You suggested it before I…before I left, and I think we should try it now. Together."

" _Beckett._ "

She lets out a shaky breath. "We can't keep going like this, Castle. And you obviously won't talk here," she says. "We need it."

 _We need to fix this. Let me fix this._

* * *

"So, Rick, Kate told us her side of the story. Do you not believe her?"

Her arms cross over her stomach as she sinks deeper into the couch. Her chest aches with it, with the confession and the story and the acknowledgement that she's actually letting this thing go.

 _People I worked with, people I trusted were killed. I couldn't just let it go._

 _But you're going to now?_

 _I have to. I have to protect the baby._

Her stomach is tight, ready for the fallout, her legs crossed in front of her. Dr. Burke would say she's trying to protect herself. She is.

"Rick?" repeats Dr. Bryan.

Castle shrugs, finally. Besides a scoff, it's the most he's communicated since they got here. "It's not that I don't believe her," he says. "I know about her mom's case and…everything. I was there for a lot of it. I saw her…pain last time. I watched her get shot, I…kissed her bruises when she was beaten and almost thrown off a roof. I offered to go on the run with her, if that's what it took."

Her eyes slide shut, a barrier against more tears, against the memories that flood her mind. The look on his face when he saw her in the hospital. The gentle brush of his lips against wounds of black and blue. The car ride back to the city after she insisted they stay, and the way he carefully tried to keep her cut clean.

"So, you understand the danger, but…?"

She opens her eyes again, looks across the couch to watch him answer.

 _Please don't hate me, Castle._

"But I also know how powerful this man must be, considering how powerful Bracken was," he says. "I don't see how her…leaving me was going to keep me safe from someone who could kill me no matter what, if they wanted to."

She takes a deep breath, forcing that mental image away, as her fingers curl around the fabric of her shirt and her fist presses hard against her stomach.

"I just don't see why she had to leave and…"

"And?"

It's her voice that speaks, not Dr. Bryan's, but he doesn't turn to face her.

"And I don't know how I can be sure she won't just leave again."

She smothers her tears behind one hand, her sob behind the other and he finally turns to look at her. He looks so…sad. Hurt. Broken.

Just like she does every time she looks in the mirror.

She stutters through an answer that's not really an answer at all.

"I wouldn't… I couldn't…"

And then her eyes fall to the cushions between them, the space impossible to cross.

 _I'm sorry._

* * *

"There's more."

She says it the moment they cross the threshold into the loft, can't hold it back anymore. Can't deal with the lies and the dejected look on his face when she makes a vague statement, or tells him she can't share.

"That I didn't say there," she adds. "About the case. About that day."

"Why didn't you say it there?"

Her jaw clenches around the words. An instinct. The need to keep it from him, to protect him, but she forces the words out. "Because some of this could be a matter of national security."

That has him turning to her, eyes wide. She can't tell if he's surprised or scared or some mixture the two.

"I told you it was dangerous," she says.

"And you…You just dove right in anyway? Knowing how dangerous it was? _Is,_ Kate."

She blinks back the tears. "I– We should sit down," she mumbles, brushing past him. She sits down on the couch, curls up on her end, again, knees tucked under her chin.

 _Just let me explain._

He hesitates, but he joins her.

Her head hits the cushion. "I blamed myself, Castle. For McCord and Hendricks' deaths. And for Bracken's. And everyone else who had to die. I'm the one that couldn't let it go, that ran that search on Bracken, and I… So many people died because of a redacted memo, and I…"

"It wasn't your fault," he says. "Their deaths weren't on you, _aren't_ on you, Kate. They're all on this LokStat person."

"I know," she whispers, and then shakes her head. "No. I don't know. But that's what everyone's been saying."

 _I still blame myself._

"But I… You know me, Castle. I don't back down. I don't give up. You once said that's what makes me extraordinary."

 _I still want to be extraordinary in your eyes, even if I'm not in mine._

"I did," he says. "I…"

Her heart clenches. Sinks.

"You what?" she asks.

 _Please, just tell me what._

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Castle, you can tell me. We have to be able to talk if we want to…" She swallows thickly as tear falls from the corner of her eye. "If we want to fix this."

He turns to her, his gaze a warning.

"It's nothing, Beckett."

"No. It's not _nothing_ , Castle. This is our relationship, our marriage, our _family._ You have to be willing to talk to me," she cries. It's desperate. She's begging. She's bringing the baby into this.

He needs to talk.

"I can't, okay? It's nothing."

"Get mad," she says. "Scream. Yell. I don't care. Tell me how much I hurt you. Tell me how you feel, Castle. Please, just… I hurt you. You're mad. I get it. Let yourself get mad."

His eyes flicker, falling to nothing and then meeting hers again.

 _Please._

But he pushes himself off the couch, eyes falling away again.

"I can't."

And she's left alone in the living room, crying, shaking. She wipes at her cheeks and at her nose, sucking in a quivering breath and clenching her jaw for strength. For stability.

 _I can._

* * *

 _Huge thank you to Lindsey for all her help._


	6. Chapter 6

**Rebirth**

* * *

He's sitting behind his desk when she walks into the office, his eyes unfocused, aimed at his computer screen.

There's no click of the mouse or tapping of fingers on the keyboard, though.

 _Good. No distractions. He has to listen._

"There's another thing I didn't tell you about that day, Castle."

He blinks, looking up at her as he closes his laptop. "Letting out all the secrets about these past weeks?"

"Yeah," she nods. "Because I want to fix this. I don't want this gap between us. So I'll tell you anything you want to know. Anything you need to know to help us get past this."

"Anything?"

She nods again, obedient, open. "Anything."

 _I promise._

He sinks back, the chair tilting with his weight. His arms cross over his chest, eyes darting away from hers. He shrugs. "Okay. Let's start with what you came in here wanting to tell me."

She lingers by the door, hands curled into fists at her sides.

This isn't a conversation. It feels like an interrogation, and she's on the wrong side of the table.

 _Except I'm willing to give him the answers._

"After the ambulance, Vikram and I went to this place the precinct raided a few days earlier. I knew it would be empty, and the paperwork hadn't been filed yet, so I figured it was safe, but LokStat's men found us," she says. "I was injured and Vikram, well, he's not the ideal backup. I wasn't sure we were going to…"

He nods and waves her off before she can finish the sentence.

"Before they could…though, a woman came in. She shot the ones I hadn't gotten, dragged us out and told us to get in her car. He name was Rita, or at least that's the name she gave me."

His brows furrow. "You think it was fake?"

"She's from a government agency," she shrugs.

"The CIA?"

She shakes her head. "Something higher up. Something bigger. She investigates corruption inside the CIA, including LokStat."

His jaw clenches. "LokStat is a CIA agent?"

"A corrupt one," she nods.

"How long has Rita been going after him?" he asks.

"A while."

 _Too long._

He stands up, finally, put doesn't come towards her. His fingers comb through his hair, curl into fists far tighter than hers before he presses his palms against the surface of his desk.

"So, you knew how dangerous he was, but you went after him anyway? Put your own life, and the lives of everyone else involved, on the line?"

It's angry. Accusatory. But she nods anyway.

 _Be honest._

"And you knew that a government agency had been going after this guy for months, possibly even years, and you still threw our marriage out the window to try and chase him?"

It's the same thing, the same tone, lingering hurt mixing in, making her heart clench. And she nods.

"Then how long were you planning on being gone?"

 _Oh,_ he sounds heartbroken. Crushed. Like any lingering sense of hope has been swept away.

"Not… I wasn't…"

 _Not forever. Not for long._

"This could have taken months, Kate. Maybe _years_. You said you wanted to come back as soon as you could. What if that was years from now?"

 _No. Never that long._

"I wouldn't have asked you to wait for years, Castle."

"So you would have given up our marriage completely for this?"

 _No. No._

"No. Castle–"

"You would have just stopped investigating, just given up on the case because it was taking too long?"

"I–"

He waves her off. "I'm going to take a walk. Don't wait for me for dinner."

She's still staring at his desk, at the spiral of stairs in the picture behind it, when the front door slams shut.

* * *

He's not home for dinner, just like he predicted.

And she has no appetite, so she sits on the couch and nibbles on soda crackers, if only to keep her stomach calm. The TV stays off and she doesn't grab a book. She just sinks back against the cushions, curled up in a ball with a throw pillow wedged between her knees and her cheek and a blanket they used to share wrapped around her.

It's lonely and bitter and cold and she wonders if this is how home felt to him over the past five weeks.

 _Because of me._

She tugs the blanket tighter around her, a shudder wracking her body. Disgusted with herself for making her feel like this, for leaving him and expecting things to be okay—well, better than they are—when she came back. Cold, because of the lack of him, the lack of love.

The emptiness in one of the few places that has ever felt like home.

 _It's not home. Not yet._

She forces her legs out from under her, presses her feet firmly against the ground. Her knees are weak. shaky, but she makes herself stand. The pillow falls to the floor, and she dumps the blanket onto the couch.

 _It's not home. This isn't our marriage._

She drags herself through the living room and into the bedroom. Her bag still sits on the floor at the foot of the bed, only half unpacked.

 _We need to fix our marriage before this can be home._

She grabs the bag, ignoring the shirt that falls from it, along with the plate of soda crackers that sits on the nightstand.

 _I'll wait until it's home._

She slings the strap over her shoulder and drops the plate off on the kitchen counter before heading for the stairs. Her legs quiver as she takes each step, weak and unwilling to accept defeat, to take her to the room where she should have been sleeping this whole time.

 _It will be home._

She pushes the door to the guest room open and stops in her tracks at what she sees.

The bed isn't made. The sheets are twisted, the comforter bunched up at the bottom. There's a pile of clothing on the dresser—his clothing, just a handful of outfits—and a small pile of laundry on the floor. A stick of deodorant sits on the nightstand, and the alarm light on the clock is on.

It's impossible to misinterpret.

She didn't know if he was sleeping in their bed with her. He wasn't. And he didn't bother telling her.

Her knees threaten to give out. She forces them to stay locked as she runs back down the stairs, drops the bag off in the bedroom and runs into the bathroom.

Her shirt lands on the sink, her pants just barely come off before she steps into the shower, under a stream of ice cold pellets.

Her back hits the glass right before she sinks to the floor, a hand covering her mouth to muffle her cries.

* * *

Sleep doesn't come.

She lies awake in bed well after he gets back, as the clock strikes midnight and still as it passes one o'clock, then two.

It's odd, because if there's one pregnancy symptom she has besides the morning sickness, it's the fatigue. The constant ache of exhaustion and the headaches that refuse to go away and the ability to fall asleep almost as soon as her head hits the pillow.

But tonight, she doesn't sleep. Can't sleep.

 _Because you know he's not going to join you._

She shakes that thought away, even as the truth behind it makes her heart sink and her stomach lurch. She's slept…better than this for five weeks, all without him.

But that wasn't in their bed. In their home.

 _Shut up._

She crawls out from under the covers, steps off the bed and kneels next to her bag. Her fingers fumble with one of the zippers as she tugs open a pouch and reaches into it.

There's a business card and a burner phone.

Neither have been used, the number or the phone. She bought it just in case something big came up, in case she was in danger or they caught a break. But nothing's happened that warranted using it, calling a secret government agent for the sake of nothing but slight hunches and research that goes nowhere..

 _Until now._

She climbs back onto the bed, crawls back under the covers and curls up in a ball on her side. Her hands are shaking, the number out of focus as she stares at it.

 _Just do it. Just call._

Castle's upstairs, she assumes. Probably sleeping. Oblivious to her hurt, to her knowledge. Doubting her, as he should. And she's lying here on the verge of tears, staring at a business card that could very well be fake.

And yet she blinks away the tears, doesn't bother wiping away the ones that fall.

 _You can do it, Kate. Just do it._

Her thumb drifts across the keypad, hitting the numbers carefully. She's still shaking, fighting against the pain and the tears that well behind her eyes again.

She lets them close as she brings the phone to her ear, hears it ring.

 _You need this. Castle needs this._

"Hello. How may I help you?" comes a chipper voice from the other end that she doesn't want to listen to.

Her voice cracks, but she manages to get the words out.

"I need my curtains cleaned."

 _Please help._

* * *

 _Once again, a huge thank you goes out to Lindsey for all her help._


	7. Chapter 7

**Rebirth**

* * *

 _Nine weeks._

She's nine weeks pregnant, and it's the strangest thought. That she's had a baby inside her for nine—well, _technically_ seven—whole weeks. That just over nine weeks ago, she wasn't pregnant, and now…she is. Almost a quarter of the way through her pregnancy, too.

 _Thirty-one more weeks._

She pushes herself off the bathroom floor, wiping sweaty strands of hair off her forehead. The morning sickness is still bad, still has her springing out of bed every morning. But she's learning to tolerate it, to stop fighting it and let her body do what it wants to do.

It knows better than she does, anyway.

She bites at her lower lip as she reaches for her toothbrush, for the toothpaste. It's bright red and tastes like artificial strawberries, but the mint one made her sick, so she tolerates it, and rinses out her mouth with small sips of water afterwards.

Her eyes lock on those in her reflection, on the dark circles beneath them, the bright red in the corner of them that hasn't gone away since she started crying herself to sleep at night.

 _Just go get ready, Kate._

She takes a step back, away from the vanity to stand against the wall, her entire upper body coming into view in the mirror. The shirt she's wearing is slightly too big, hangs off her shoulders slightly. Her pants hang low on her hips, the protrusions of her hipbones just barely visible through the cotton of the shirt.

She looks…unhealthy. Tiny and weak.

 _Definitely not pregnant._

Her fingers skim across her stomach, low, just over her hipbones. Whatever belly she did have before was lost after she left, and with the morning sickness, she's only gotten smaller. But…

She's pregnant. And emotional. And probably a little stupid.

Because she's only at nine weeks. It's too early. According to the app she downloaded, the baby is only about the size of a grape. But still, she turns, lifting her shirt over her belly to look at herself in the mirror, to see this profile view of the bump that isn't there yet.

 _Stop being sentimental and go get ready._

She lets her fingers drift across her belly again, right in between her hip bones this time, and she presses down gently, right above where her baby is.

It's slight, so tiny she might be imagining it, but it's just slightly swollen, protruding just a tad and hard to the touch and her heart stutters, hand still on her belly.

 _On my baby._

The rational part is telling her she's probably just bloated, that it's too early. But the rest of her is thrumming with it, morning sickness and fatigue forgotten as she presses down again, just as gently as before. The rest of her is telling her that it's her baby, the beginning of the physical evidence that everything around her is changing.

She flees the bathroom, letting her shirt fall back down, before either side can win.

 _Everything is going to change._

She does her makeup as quickly as possible, pulls on a button down and a pencil skirt before she grabs her messenger bag and heads for the door.

 _I'm having a baby. Everything is changing._

"I'm off to work," she announces, tugging the door open.

Well, one thing hasn't changed, doesn't show signs of changing.

There's no reply. There hasn't been since their fight.

Her marriage is still in shambles.

* * *

She combs her fingers through her hair, rubbing hard at her temples in feeble efforts to get rid of the headache that came along with lunch.

 _It's stress._

She sighs, sinking back into her chair. The clock hanging above the door keeps reminding her that it's almost time for therapy, which means she has to see Castle.

It means she has to talk to Castle, and hope he's willing to talk, too.

 _Yeah, right. He doesn't even wish you a good day anymore._

She clenches her teeth, leaning forward again. Her elbows dig into the surface of her desk, the hard press of them against the wood almost painful as her head falls into the cradle of her palms.

He should be here to pick her up in just a few minutes.

She never thought she'd be wishing she didn't have to see him.

 _Come on. If he won't, you gotta put in the effort._

The door squeaks as it cracks open, and she looks up to see if he's here, to see if she can leave and maybe, _hopefully_ start to fix what she broke.

But it's not Castle standing in the doorway.

It's Vikram.

"What do you want?"

"I work here. Isn't that reason enough to come talk to you?" he asks, smiling.

 _Dammit, Vikram. I don't have time for this._

"You're a digital analyst. You don't report to me. So no, that's not a good enough reason." she says. "Why are you really here?"

He closes the door behind him and drops into the chair sitting in the corner of the room, crossing his legs, hands falling into his lap.

"I don't think we should drop the case," he says.

" _Vikram_."

 _Stop._

"No, Beckett, I'm serious. These are our friends that died. Rachel was your _partner._ And the CIA and Rita are obviously having no luck," he argues.

"Yeah, well, it's their job."

He shakes his head. "But they're obviously not that dedicated. No criminal can be this hard to find, right?"

"It took fifteen years to catch my mom's killer," she whispers.

"Exactly. Because no one was looking," he points out.

 _Dammit. He's right._

Her hand slips under the desk, presses against her belly again. "Vikram–"

"I know you're pregnant, but just looking into it can't be that dangerous. If it gets dangerous, we'll stop," he offers. "Don't you want justice for Rachel? For Matt?"

 _Justice._

Her gaze lifts from the desk, up past Vikram, to the glass door that's open just a sliver, and to the man standing behind it, staring at her like she tore him apart _again._

She swallows thickly. "I can't," she says to Vikram, staring at Castle. "I have a baby to protect. I can't… I can't take the risk," she says.

It's an answer to Vikram, an attempt at consoling Castle.

But Vikram lingers. And Castle…

He looks like she just betrayed whatever trust she had.

* * *

Her knees press hard against her chest, fingernails digging into her shins. Her face is buried in her pillow, her body curled up in a ball on top of the comforter.

All she can hear is his voice, the echo of words from earlier today.

 _I can't trust you._

 _Why, Castle? Why can't you trust me?_

 _Because you hesitated._

She snakes one arm between her thighs and her abdomen, splays her hand across her belly and presses down hard, her muscles spasming beneath her palm. It hurts, aches, and she presses her face deeper into the pillow.

 _I didn't—_

 _You did, Beckett. You thought about going back._

She dips the heel of her palm hard into her abdomen, pressing her head hard against her knees. She whimpers so softly she barely hears herself, a tear soaking into the fabric of her leggings.

 _Why does it hurt so bad?_

She scrapes her nails over her knee cap, down her shin. It's stupid. It doesn't work. It doesn't distract her.

Her abdomen spasms again, and she barely hears herself groan.

 _You don't talk to me. You don't tell me things. And what you do tell me…everything seems like a lie._

 _I haven't lied to you, Castle. Not once since I've been back._

She rolls forward, pressing her knees hard into the mattress, her stomach hard against her thighs. Her face drags across the pillow case, smearing tears across the fabric as she gasps, presses her forehead hard against her knees, another sharp pang burning low in her stomach.

 _You don't tell me things, Kate._

 _And when were you going to tell me you're sleeping in the guest room?_

 _When were you going to tell me you're still willing to put yourself and my baby in danger?_

She chokes on nothing, falling back onto her side. The groan that's drawn from her chest is barely audible, the whimper felt but silent. Her hand presses harder against her belly, and she gasps something that might be Castle's name.

She's really not sure anymore.

 _Dammit. No._

He's at her side suddenly, fingers curling around her arm, tugging her hand from her stomach. The other hand runs over the top of her head, wiping sweaty strands of hair back.

He's saying something, his lips moving against her temple, but she can't make out a single word.

 _No. No. No._

" _Castle._ "

It's a gasp, loud as the pain comes back, muscles seizing right between her hip bones.

She's sobbing now, clutching at his hand with both of hers, nails digging into his skin, toes curling against the mattress.

"Castle. _The baby._ "

 _I can't lose our baby._

* * *

 _A **huge** thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help._


	8. Chapter 8

**Rebirth**

* * *

She ends up in of the ER's private rooms, curled up in a ball on her side as doctors and nurses come and go.

None of them have news. None of them know what's wrong.

 _Just let our baby be okay._

There's an IV in her arm, administering fluids and pain meds that do little to help, a blanket that's way too hot draped over her body. The pain doesn't go away, barely fades as she tries not to cry into the pillow.

 _It will be okay._

Castle's sitting by her side. He hasn't left since they got here, has alternated between holding her hand and rubbing her back and just _being here_ and it's the most contact they've had since she's been home.

Every time a nurse or doctor comes in, he asks if they have news, and even through the haze of pain, she can hear the waver in his voice, the fear that matches her own.

 _It has to be okay._

She rolls onto her back, letting her heels dig into the thin mattress beneath her. Her right arm is slung over her stomach, the pressed against her head, the heel of her hand wiping away tears as they fall.

Castle reaches for her, his fingers curling around her elbow. "Is it getting better?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

 _No._

"Well, they said that the fact that you're not bleeding is a good sign," he mumbles. It sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than reassure her.

She doesn't say a word, doesn't move.

 _Yeah._

Then the door opens, and she cracks her eyes open to see an unfamiliar man walk in, dragging an ultrasound machine behind him.

He's someone who can tell them something.

 _Good._

He asks them a bunch of questions, the same ones every other doctor and nurse has asked, before pulling a stool from the corner of the room and sitting down.

Castle reaches for the hand as the doctor reaches for the ultrasound gel.

Something inside her melts. This moment…holding hands when they see their baby…it's what she's always wanted. What she's always imagined.

She squeezes his fingers, but he doesn't squeeze back.

 _It will be okay._

The doctor presses the wand against her stomach, swirling it against her skin, pressing against her tight, aching muscles. It hurts, but when she sees the familiar, grainy image appear on the screen…

Her breath is caught in her throat, heart thundering against her ribs in anticipation for the worst.

Because nothing in her life can ever just…be okay.

 _It has to be._

The doctor reaches forward, presses something on the machine and that sound…

She knows that sound.

 _It's okay._

Castle's hand slips from within hers as he stands, and she turns to see his wide eyes staring at the screen, the baby's strong, steady heartbeat still echoing in the room.

"The baby's okay?" he asks.

"Your baby's okay," confirms the doctor.

And she wants to breath a sigh of relief, but something bitter mixes with it, leaves her silently choking on pain and guilt and the words _the baby._

The baby's okay, but everything else is still broken.

* * *

She wakes to silence.

There's no pitter patter of him typing, no incoherent sounds of the TV, no footsteps echoing through the ceiling above her. There's just…silence.

She's alone.

With a sigh, she rolls onto her side and throws the blankets off her body, her other hand trailing across her stomach. The pain has faded now, just a dull ache low in her abdomen.

 _Our baby's okay._

She forces herself to stand and walks through his office, into the living room.

"Kate?"

Her head darts to the side, gaze landing on Alexis, who's sitting on the couch with a textbook spread across her lap. Her brows are furrowed, lips twisted into a frown.

Her stomach drops.

 _Shit._

"What are…does dad know you're here?"

Her chest aches, stomach lurches as she nods her head. "Uh, yeah. I've been here…for a while."

A week. How has she been here a week without running into Alexis?

"How long is a while?"

She shrugs one shoulder, fighting against the clenching of her jaw. "A week?"

 _A whole week._

"Oh," breathes Alexis. "I've been at a friend's house, working on a project."

She nods dumbly, still standing in the gap in the wall of bookshelves. There's nothing to say, really. No way to explain what she's done or…

"Why are you back?"

Her heart stops, just for a second, stomach lurching once again.

 _What?_

"I know dad said you would, but I always figured something big would happen and then you'd be back," says Alexis.

 _Oh._

"I– Uh…"

 _Something big did happen._

Alexis sets her textbook aside, shifting on the couch. "You were trying to protect him," she says.

"I…" she mumbles. "Uh, yeah."

"I figured," she continues. "At first, I couldn't figure out why you would leave when you seemed so happy here, and then dad told me how miserable you seemed and I just knew. You wouldn't have left unless you thought you were doing something good for him, something to protect him."

She nods.

 _That about sums it up._

"Then why are you back now?" asks Alexis. "Whoever you were protecting him from…"

"Is still out there," she finishes, words bleeding together. "I just…I decided to give it up. I…had to."

Her fingers skim across her stomach.

 _For the baby._

Alexis is staring at her, though. Her brows still furrowed, lip pulled between her teeth. Blue eyes scan her body, from head to toe and back again before meeting her own gaze.

"You're pregnant?" she says, finally.

She nods slowly, her hand coming up to rest on her belly. "Yeah."

"That's why you came back?"

She cringes.

 _Not the only reason._

"Yeah."

"And dad knows…? About the baby, I mean?"

She nods again, mind flashing to the look on his face when he saw the ultrasound, when he heard the heartbeat. "Yeah."

"And he's still…mad?"

 _Rightfully so._

"Yeah," she breathes. "But I hurt him. I understand."

 _It still hurts, though._

Once again, Alexis stares at her, eyes curious and caring until she blinks and pushes herself up off the couch. She walks over to her, reaches out with one hand that settles on her shoulder.

"When my mom got pregnant, he married her, even though he didn't love her," she says. "He loves you, Kate, even though you hurt him. You just have to give him some time."

She nods, again, lips parting around words she can't form.

"And Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"Congratulations."

And then Alexis is gone, grabbing her textbook and running up the stairs. And she's standing in the living room, staring straight ahead, her hand still pressed against her belly.

* * *

She sets her book down, sliding her bookmark into place as she reaches over to sit it on the nightstand.

It's a pregnancy book, telling her all the scary and happy things to expect, and it's helped, brought smiles to her face in times of panic.

But then it mentions the father's position in the pregnancy, what he should be doing and her heart sinks, her eyes sting.

Because the book talks about the father speaking to the baby, just like she always imagined Castle would, but he's actually sleeping in the guest room, avoiding her at all costs.

 _It will be okay._

With a sigh, she flicks the lamp off and nuzzles her head deeper into the pillow. Her fingers curl tightly around the comforter as she pulls it over her body. Her eyes fall closed, and though sleep hasn't come easily for weeks, she prays it will tonight.

That is, until there's a dip in the mattress next to her, and her eyes fly open to find Castle crawling into bed.

 _What?_

She swallows back whatever words are a lump in her throat as she rolls onto her back, eyes locked on him as he settles into bed next to her.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

He turns to her, gaze finally finding hers. "Going to bed?" he says.

She sighs. "But you don't…you don't trust me. You don't want to share a bed with me," she mumbles.

The words hurt, burn in her throat and ache in her chest, but they're true.

"Beckett, you could have lost the baby last night and I would have been oblivious upstairs. I'm not leaving you alone."

That hurts, too. The fact that he's just doing this for their baby.

 _It would hurt more to think he's doing it for you when he's not._

"We shouldn't…share a bed just for that, Castle," she manages, her voice shaking. "I'll call you if anything happens."

He shakes his head. "I want to be here. I want to make sure the baby is okay myself."

 _Oh,_ that one _really_ hurts.

He doesn't trust her, not even with their child.

He has no reason to.

"Guilt is no reason for us–" _you_ "–to feel forced into sharing a bed," she says. "If you don't–"

"The doctor said that stress is probably what made your pain so bad, Beckett, and I'm the one stressing you out. I could have been the reason the baby died, okay?"

Her mouth clamps shut around the rest of her sentence, eyes watering without her permission.

 _No. Not your fault. Never your fault._

"I'm causing myself–"

The unfamiliar ringing of a phone cuts her off, and she jumps out of bed, runs for her bag where the new burner is sitting in its pouch.

She flips it open without thought, presses it against her ear as she turns to face him.

"It's Rita," she tells him.

His eyes go wide as she wipes at hers.

It's Rita.

 _She'll be able to help._

* * *

 _A **huge** thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help._


	9. Chapter 9

**Rebirth**

* * *

She ends the call with the press of her thumb.

 _No._

Castle's staring at her, eyes locked on the side of her head as she wipes tears from her cheeks and swallows back the lump in her throat.

"She can meet us. Isn't that good news?" he asks. The words are soft, with just an undertone of anger.

 _Stop crying, Kate._

"Yeah," she whispers, but the word sounds shaky, the statement weak. "Yeah, it's good."

"Then why are you crying?" he says.

All that does is make her jaw clench, her eyes squeezing shut to fight off another wave of tears. Her hands curl into fists around the fabric of the bedspread, her stomach lurching.

"I don't know," she mumbles.

 _Yes, you do._

"You don't know?" he asks, voice tainted with incredulity. "Why don't you try and guess, at least?"

She swallows thickly, eyes still locked on the phone. "Because I know what you're going to say next?" she whispers, words bleeding together, soft and almost incomprehensible.

But he knows her.

"You mean that I'm going with you?"

She chokes on a sob, slapping one hand over her mouth, the other coming up to rest on her knee, her nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her pants. And she forces herself to nod her response.

 _Yes, that._

"I'm not letting you go alone," he says.

" _Castle._ "

 _Please._

"No," he says. "Rita said she wanted to meet you _and_ Vikram in person. Last time you saw her, you _left._ And LokStat is dangerous. You said you left to protect me from him. I'm _not_ letting you go alone."

 _No._

"I don't need you to protect me," she argues.

"You're carrying my baby!" He all but shouts it, making her wince, her hand on her leg slipping to rest on her stomach. "I'm not going to let you walk into danger with a questionable secret agent and a tech analyst."

 _Stop._

She tears her hand away from her mouth, wiping at her eyes one last time before reaching for him. He pulls his hand away before she can so much as touch it, and her heart breaks.

He still doesn't trust her, still doesn't believe her, which makes sense. She hurt him.

But it still hurts to see the anger in his eyes.

"I don't want you walking into danger, either," she tells him. "I did this to protect you. That'll mean nothing if you die out there, Castle."

"And what will anything mean if you go out there and get _yourself_ killed? You're _pregnant._ "

"I know!"

She sinks back, tears still streaming down her face, as he stares at her. Her teeth catch her lip, her eyes falling closed.

 _Please, Castle._

Exhaustion is starting to seep in, mental and physical. She crosses her arms over her stomach, lets her chin fall against her chest. The tears are still coming, burning at her eyes and staying sticky on her cheeks. She doesn't bother fighting them anymore.

"I'm tired," she mumbles.

It says so little, but it means so much.

He doesn't say a word, though, so she lets herself fall onto the bed, rolling onto her side so her back is to him. One arm stays draped over her abdomen.

"I'm coming with you," he says eventually. The words are softer now, quieter, but hold the same amount of conviction.

 _It's time to admit defeat._

"Okay."

* * *

She should be at work. She's supposed to be, but Esposito sent her home the minute he saw her.

So she's not at work. She's in this apartment, this home that's not home.

 _It could be home._

With a sigh, she rolls over, her legs swinging over the edge of the bed. The doctor encouraged her to rest. She's failed miserably at doing so, despite the fatigue that has seeped into every muscle of her body.

She gets up, stepping through his office, arms crossed over her stomach.

Food would be good, now that the morning sickness has finally started to calm down.

Except there are voices in the kitchen.

 _Castle. Alexis._

She freezes, her fingers curled around one of the bookshelves as she glances into the other room, where Castle and Alexis are sitting, talking.

"I thought this was what you wanted?"

Her heart pounds, grip on the shelves tightening.

"It was," says Castle.

Her eyes squeeze shut.

 _Was._

"But?" asks Alexis. "What, now that she _is_ home, you don't want her here anymore?"

 _Please, no._

"No, no. No, of course that's not it," says Castle. It's a mumble, so soft she can barely hear it.

She's not sure she believes him.

"Than what is it, Dad?" asks Alexis.

 _Please answer._

He's silent, and she glances around the bookshelf again to see him staring down at the counter, twirling his spoon in his coffee cup.

"Dad?"

 _Please._

He still doesn't say anything, just looks up at his daughter. From where she's standing. she can't see his face, but she sees Alexis' face fall.

"Dad…" she breathes. "You can't… She's _pregnant._ You guys are having a baby, and I know she hurt you, but…you didn't even love Mom and you _married_ her. Why can't you forgive Kate?"

She squeezes her eyes shut, fights back the tears.

His sigh is loud.

"Dad?"

 _Please answer._

"Because I love her," he says finally, so softly she barely hears.

She sags against the bookshelves in relief, her eyes still squeezed shut.

 _He loves me._

"And that's a problem?" asks Alexis. "If you still love her, Dad, why aren't you trying harder to work things out?"

 _Because I hurt him._

"You wouldn't understand," says Castle, still whispering.

She forces her eyes open, turns to see Alexis reach over and rest her hand on Castle's shoulder.

"You can still tell me," she says.

He sighs, shoulders lifting with it. Her eyes fall closed again, her grip on the shelves tightening as her free hand slips to rest on her stomach.

She's bracing herself. Because part of her knows she doesn't want to hear his answer.

"Your mom," he finally says, "broke something that wasn't there. I never _really_ loved her, and I never truly trusted her, so when things fell apart…it hurt, but not like this."

 _I hurt him._

"And Kate?"

He sighs, again. "Kate took something magical and…maybe she didn't break it, but she sure bent it. And that _hurt,_ more than anything your mother ever did, because I loved Kate— _love_ her—more than anything. Losing her, watching her go…the only thing that could hurt more is losing you."

A tear falls from the corner of her eye. She wipes it away before it can roll down her cheek.

"But now…she's back, and I think she wants to fix things," says Alexis.

"I know," he breathes. "But it's not…it's not that simple."

"Why?"

 _Please._

"Because she broke something extraordinary," he says. "And I don't know if I can trust her again, after that."

She slaps a hand over her mouth to cover to stuttered gasp that escapes her. Her eyes snap open and she all but runs back to the bedroom, where she buries herself under the covers and cries into her pillow.

 _Please. No._

* * *

It's dark. It's not somewhere she wants to be, and she knows that as soon as she pulls up next to the building.

Her hand drifts over her stomach, over the thick fabric of her coat.

"You shouldn't be here," he says. "It seems…dangerous."

As though she doesn't already know _that._

"I have to," she mumbles back, eyes locked on the dashboard in front of her as the lights go out. "I have to put this thing to rest, for our baby, for _us._ "

 _Please let me._

He stares at her for a long moment. She's hyper-aware of his eyes on her, of the hole they seem to be boring into the side of her head.

"Fine," he says finally. It's clipped, final. "Do you have your gun?"

She nods, hand slipping from her stomach to her hip, where her gun is securely holstered. "And you have my backup piece. We'll be fine."

 _We have to be fine._

He doesn't say another word, just pushes his door open. She does the same, stepping out of the car onto the street. It's cold. It's dark.

It feels a _lot_ like things won't be okay.

But they have to be okay.

She falls into step behind him as he heads for the entrance. He won't let her step in front of him, like he's trying to protect her, shield her from danger.

Well, not her. The baby.

 _His baby._

She swallows back a sigh, one hand tightening around the handle of her gun, the other settling on her stomach again.

It _will_ be okay. He'll make sure of it. _She'll_ make sure of it.

She follows him into the building. The ground floor is almost pitch black, spare for the slightest bit of light from outside drifting in through the entryways.

It's just enough for her to see Vikram standing in the middle of the floor.

Castle tenses. So does she.

The last thing she needs right now is him asking her to come back.

 _Please, let this be easy._

She stands next to Castle, Vikram just a few feet away, staring at them. Her hand is still resting on her stomach.

 _Everything will be okay._

"Anyone here?" she calls into the darkness.

The building creeks a reply, the clicking of heels another one as a figure steps out from the shadows.

She swallows thickly, her grip on her gun tightening.

Everything might not be okay. But it has to be.

 _It has to be._

* * *

 _A **huge** thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help._


	10. Chapter 10

**Rebirth**

* * *

It's Rita who steps out from the shadows, dressed all in black.

"You called?" she says.

"Yes," she answers. Her voice is shaking, weak, and both Castle and Vikram turn towards her. "We need… _I_ need this investigation to go away."

 _Please._

"Oh?" says Rita.

Her eyes fall closed, a barrier against tears. "Please," she whispers. "We didn't find much, just a link between the heroin Vulcan Simmons was selling and heroin still circling the city, but I need it to disappear."

 _Please._

Her eyes open again, and she finds Rita's gaze sweeping across Vikram and Castle before landing on her again.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" she asks.

She hears Vikram bark out a laugh, sees Castle glare at him. She closes her eyes again, curls her hands into fists at her sides to resist the urge to splay one over her stomach, over her baby.

 _My baby._

"Circumstances," she mumbles. "The circumstances have changed, a lot."

"I know," says Rita.

Her eyes fly open, and she meets Rita's gaze. There's a small smile still playing at her lips, as her blue eyes flick to Castle.

"Congratulations, by the way," she says. "Both of you."

Her shoulders sag, and this time she can't resist the urge to press her hand to her belly, her fingers curling against the fabric of her jacket.

"How do you…" she whispers.

"You're investigating my case, and you're married to my stepson," says Rita, smile fading. "You really thought I wouldn't keep tabs on you?" Her smile returns, ever so slight. "So, congratulations."

"Thank you," she mumbles. "But, I need to know if you can help us, if you can get rid of any evidence of our investigation and make it so nothing can be traced back to us."

 _I need this to go away._

Rita smiles. "Have you forgotten who I am?" she says. "What you did was dangerous, Kate, but I'm glad you seem to have figured out what's most important."

She nods, eyes falling to the pavement beneath her feet.

 _Please, just answer the question._

"I can help."

She lets out a breath, sucks in another one.

"I just need all your copies of everything you found," adds Rita.

Kate nods slowly, gaze drifting to where Vikram is standing, Castle between them. Vikram's shoulders sag as he reaches into the messenger bag hanging from his shoulder.

She swallows thickly when she sees the tablet and the familiar folder.

Everything is there.

 _Everything has to go._

"Okay then," says Rita, holding one hand out toward Vikram. "I'll need all of that."

He sighs. "That tablet cost a fortune."

"My organization will buy you a new one," she says, waving her hand. "Just hand over the evidence, Vikram. We need to make this quick, before anyone can catch us."

 _Please. Just do it._

She watches as Vikram reaches out, both the tablet and the folder clutched in his hand. Rita grabs the other side, but Vikram doesn't let go, his eyes locked on Kate's.

"We don't have to stop just because you're pregnant," he insists. "We can still…"

Castle jerks forward, reaching for the tablet, and her eyes fall closed, her breath catching in her throat, hands curling into fists at her side.

 _Why?_

"That's not your decision to make," says Castle, voice tainted with venom.

She knows it has to be directed at Vikram, and she really can't blame Castle for it.

Vikram _knows_ she wants to drop it. She _needs_ to drop it.

 _Why can't he just drop it, too?_

She opens her eyes to find Rita once again watching her, that same small smile on her face. "Thank you," says Rita. "And congratulations, again."

She forces a smile, even as she can feel the anger radiating off Castle next to her. "No," she whispers. "Thank _you._ "

And then she turns on her heel and leaves, knowing her husband is following close behind.

* * *

They walk through the loft door to find the living room empty.

Her arms are crossed over her stomach, hands buried deep in her sleeves, chin pressed against her chest.

Castle is lingering behind her, shucking off his jacket noisily. He's still angry, and she still doesn't know if any of that anger is aimed at her.

"We need to talk," she whispers.

 _Please._

He lets out a loud, frustrated breath as she heads for the couch. She sits down, pulls her feet up under her, her jacket still draped over her shoulders. With a gentle pat to the cushion next to her, she silently asks him to sit down next to her.

They need to talk.

He does sit down next to her, his back pressed against the back of the couch, his eyes locked on the wall in front of him.

 _It's better than nothing._

"I'm sorry," she says, "about what Vikram said."

He still doesn't turn to her, but his shoulders sag. "I don't get that guy," he says. "Does he not understand how dangerous this is, that you have a _baby_ to protect?"

She sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. "I know," she whispers. "I know. He doesn't get it, but _I_ do."

 _I do. I promise I do._

That has him turning to face her, brows furrowed. "Do you?"

 _Oh._

That _hurts._

She pushes herself onto her knees, reaches out to him, but he pulls away. Her hand lands on the cushion near his shoulder. "I do," she breathes. "Castle, I promise I will do everything I can to protect our baby."

 _I will._

"You said it yourself, Beckett. You don't give up, you don't back down," he says.

She reaches forward again, and this time, he lets her rest her hand on his shoulder. "I know, and usually I don't," she says. "But Castle, I _love_ you, and I love our baby. I would never…"

"Never what?"

She sighs. "I lost my mother to murder," she whispers. "I would never _voluntarily_ put myself in a position where I am at greater risk to…cause that pain to our child."

She's crying, and his gaze softens, just a bit, as she tears her hand from his shoulder to wipe messily at her eyes.

"If you can't trust anything else I say, please trust that. Please trust that I'm going to stay."

She's begging now, voice broken, cracking on every word. She doesn't care.

"Please, Castle, can you trust that? Can you trust _me?_ "

Anger still shines his eyes, and somehow, she knows.

"I can. I do," he says.

It should lift a weight off her shoulders, but all it does is make her heart sink.

 _He's lying._

That hurts worse than if he'd told the truth.

* * *

She's curled up on this couch again, uncomfortable, tilting her head back over the cushions.

And it's _silent._

Dr. Bryan last addressed him, but he's not speaking. And it's not her turn to speak, so she just lets herself sink deeper into this uncomfortable couch, dread settling in her stomach.

 _Please, just say something._

Her hand drifts over her stomach, nails digging through the fabric of her button-down. She left work for this, for silence, for this feeling of unease.

She had to.

She has to fight for this, for _them._

"Castle?" she says, rolling her head against the back of the couch so she's facing him, even though he's not facing her. "Just answer the question."

 _Please._

He turns to look at her then, eyes locking on hers. She hates the pain she finds there, the pain she _put_ there and can't seem to take back.

The pain that seems like it will never fade.

 _Please._

"Give him time, Kate," says Dr. Bryan.

She sinks back into the cushions, head falling back against the cushions, eyes falling closed.

That's exactly what she asked of him. Time.

 _Why can't he just ask the same of me?_

"Rick," says Dr. Bryan. "Do you trust her? Do you trust Kate?"

 _No. He doesn't._

She can hear his swallow as her eyes slide open again, as she turns to look at him, to see his face as he lies, or tells the heartbreaking truth.

"I do," he answers.

The words are out of her before she can stop them.

"That's not what you told Alexis."

 _Please, tell the truth._

His head zips towards her, his eyes wide. "How do you know?"

"I…overheard," she whispers. "The boys sent me home and I…I overheard."

His mouth falls open, regret flashing in his eyes, and she knows he never wanted her to know, never wanted her to overhear. He never wanted any of this.

She's the one who put them here.

 _And it was a huge mistake._

"It's okay," she says. "I walked out, I left and I didn't tell you why until I showed up at your door, pregnant with your child. I don't deserve your trust."

His mouth opens again, around words he doesn't speak, around silence that seems deafening.

She blinks against the burn behind her eyes. "You can tell the truth, Castle," she tells him. "That's what these sessions are about, the _truth._ You can say it. Don't be scared of hurting me."

 _I already hurt you._

There's a beat of silence as he stares at her, broken by the question they already know the answer to.

"The truth this time," says Dr. Bryan. "Do you trust your wife, Rick?"

He swallows. "I trust her…with my child. I know she would never do anything to hurt the baby," he answers.

Her eyes fall closed, defeat settling in her chest.

 _The baby._

"What about with your heart, Rick? Do you trust your wife with your heart?"

His eyes stay locked on hers, blue orbs brimming with tears that probably mirror her own.

"It doesn't matter if I do," he breathes. "She has it, she will _always_ have it, no matter what."

She exhales, the breath stuttered and shaky as she squeezes her eyes closed against the tears that threaten to roll down her cheeks.

He said always. He said…

 _Always. He's getting there._

* * *

 _A **huge** thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help._


	11. Chapter 11

**Rebirth**

* * *

 _Ten weeks._

She's ten weeks pregnant today, and here she stands, staring at herself in the mirror.

She's starting to show. Not in an obvious way. Other people probably can't tell. Hell, even Castle probably can't tell, but she can. She can feel the slight thickening of her middle, the hardening of her stomach, the way pants that once fit perfectly now feel tight around her waist.

And she can see it. It's barely there, by no means a baby bump, but it's still _there,_ and she can still see the way her usually flat stomach isn't flat anymore.

 _The baby is ten weeks old._

She rests her hand on her belly, fingers splayed over her abdomen, from the waistband of her panties past her navel. Her palm covers the entire area where the baby is growing, warm against her skin, gentle over her child.

 _Our baby is growing._

She sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly.

According to the app she downloaded last week, the baby is about the size of a kumquat, just over an inch long. So tiny and vulnerable, nestled within her. And it's getting stronger, moving around even though she can't feel it.

She presses her hand harder against her stomach, eyes falling closed, her reflection in the mirror fading to black.

 _Our baby._

Opening her eyes again, her gaze drops, falling to see her hand, to see slivers of the creamy white skin of her abdomen.

The baby has all its—

 _No. Not it._

Her baby, their baby is not just an… _it._ Their baby is a he or a she, a person she already loves so much. A person who needs a name, or a nickname, like…

 _Cosmo._

Her breath escapes her, shaky and stuttering as her teeth catch her lip, eyes burning with a sudden onslaught of tears.

 _Cosmo._

Under any other circumstances, that's what Castle would have tried to name their baby. She can picture the happy grin on his face, can imagine herself rolling her eyes and telling him _no,_ that she would under no circumstances call her child Cosmo.

But now…

It seems right, almost stupidly so.

And it might be clinging to a fantasy, trying to convince herself that things can be good again, that they can be what they once were, or what she always imagined they would be.

It might be stupid, but…

 _Cosmo._

She looks back at her reflection, her hand drifting to the side so she can see the slight swell of her stomach in the mirror. Her fingertips drift over her skin, just barely touching her belly.

Their baby is inside her, right there beneath her palm. Their tiny, little Cosmo.

She takes another deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. Tears blur her vision, and she wipes them away, her eyes still locked on her belly, on the physical evidence of their baby.

Of Cosmo.

She bites at her lip for a moment before testing the name on her lips.

"Cosmo."

It's a whisper, so soft it's barely audible, but it has her eyes slamming shut against the onslaught of tears and pain and _love_ that washes over her.

Her palm presses harder against her stomach, the corner of her mouth quirking into a smile.

"Hi, Cosmo," she breathes.

 _It's perfect._

* * *

She doesn't want to. She really, _really_ doesn't want to.

But the baby does. Cosmo seems to really want this, and after spending weeks keeping the trash can close or being ready to dart to the nearest bathroom, she kind of wants to just give in.

Except she _really_ doesn't want to.

 _Dammit._

She pushes open the door to the loft, kicks off her heels at the door. Her jacket falls from her shoulders, and she sets it on the table next to the door before stepping into the apartment.

Instantly, her eyes land on the kitchen.

 _No._

Except….

She _could_ blame it on the pregnancy, on the baby that really wants this. If anyone was to even find out, that is. Castle's in his office, occupied. He doesn't have to know.

And Cosmo _really_ wants this.

 _Fine._

With a sigh, she heads for the kitchen, straight for the fridge. Checking one last time to make sure Castle isn't around, she grabs the eggs.

Had anyone told her she would be craving a smorelette before she met Castle, she would have called them crazy. After she and Castle got together, she probably would have shrugged and accepted it, made him promise to make her one whenever their baby wanted one. And now…

She takes a deep breath as the eggs start cooking in the pan.

Now, this is the meal he was preparing when she walked out the door.

 _Stop thinking about it._

Her chest tightens at the memory, still so vivid in her mind. The smell of egg and marshmallow and chocolate had been strong, his words so…normal, something he would say on any other day.

And that's why they had broken her heart.

 _Stop._

She flips the eggs, forces the memory away.

This has nothing to do with that night, with what he had been cooking them for dinner. It's just the baby, a craving, perfectly normal.

 _Right._

Biting at her lip, she reaches for the bag of mini marshmallows and dumps some onto her egg. She adds the chocolate and the graham crackers, not bothering to wipe the crumbs off her hand.

It's just Cosmo wanting a smorelette. It's just Cosmo wanting a—

"You're making a smorelette?"

Her gaze snaps to his, breath catching in her throat.

"Uh." Her eyes fall to the stove, and then flick back up to his. "Yeah," she answers. "Co– The baby wanted one."

"Oh," he breathes.

And the silence is back, heavy, thick between them, like a cotton ball in her mouth when she opens it to speak.

Because, really, what else is there to say?

 _So much, Kate. So much._

She squeezes her eyes shut, forces them open again, so they lock on his. He's staring back at her.

"That's what I was making when you…"

 _Left._

"I know," she whispers.

He opens his mouth as though to say something else, but then closes it again, and shakes his head. And then he walks away without another word, leaving her standing there, heart pounding in her chest.

Her appetite is gone, but she eats the smorelette anyway.

* * *

She pokes at her food with her fork, stares at the pasta he cooked for them.

 _Just eat._

Her gaze flicks upwards, lands on him. He's hunched over the table across from her, his eyes locked on the space between them, his fork poking idly at his food.

She looks back down before he can catch her looking.

 _Stop it, Kate._

It's the first meal they've actually eaten together since she came back, the first time either of them have bothered cooking, or calling a meal.

And this is probably why they waited.

Because this is _really_ awkward.

 _Well, stop making it awkward._

She swallows back a sigh, fighting against the lump in her throat as she forces herself to take a bite, even though she really isn't hungry.

 _Just eat._

She swallows the bite, the tang of the tomato sauce lingering in her mouth. Her teeth dig into her lip as her heart pounds against her ribs, as she tightens her grip on the fork.

 _Stop thinking and eat._

Her mouth clamps shut, eyes falling closed as she sucks in a deep breath. It's a feeble attempt at calming herself down, at pausing her racing mind and slowing her racing heart.

It doesn't work.

 _Don't do it._

Her fork clatters onto her plate, her eyes opening again, and she finds him looking back at her.

Worry shines in his eyes, tainted by the mixture of pain and indifference that's been there since she got back.

 _Don't, Kate. Don't do it._

"You okay?" he asks.

She sucks in a breath, ready to answer, but her usual _I'm fine_ is not what escapes.

"You love me."

 _Fuck._

His eyes go wide, and then turn somber as his gaze lands on the table again. He sets his fork down slowly as his eyes click back up to meet hers. The worry has faded, the pain more obvious than ever.

Her breath gets caught in her throat, words trapped in her chest.

 _Just say it._

"I've always loved you."

The air escapes her, shaky and stuttering as her eyes go wide.

Something like relief washes over her, shrinking the weight on her shoulders by just enough to leave her still feeling heavy and weak.

 _He loves me._

She takes another deep breath, forcing her gaze to stay locked on his.

He's talking. Now is not the time to say something stupid.

"But you don't trust me," she whispers.

It's painful, speaking the obvious, here in their home that doesn't feel like home. Seeing him so pained yet open, his eyes still locked on hers as his lips twist into a frown.

She already knows it's the truth, already knows the reason and the problem and how hard it'll be to fix, but it _hurts._

He words hurt.

"How can I?"

She opens her mouth, but there's nothing to say.

 _You can't._

* * *

 _Once again, a huge thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help._


	12. Chapter 12

**Rebirth**

* * *

"It's my fault."

Both Castle and Dr. Bryan turn to look at her, and she presses herself harder against the armrest. She tightens her arm around her legs, pressing her stomach tighter against her thighs.

"I'm the one who left," she adds, mumbling the words against her knees.

 _I'm the one who ruined everything._

Castle keeps staring at her silently, and she can feel his gaze locked on the side of her head as she stares straight ahead.

She can't look at him, not now.

"Would you like to talk about why you left?"

She clenches her jaw, words caught in her mouth for a moment before she answers. "I wouldn't have brought it up if I didn't."

Dr. Bryan smiles. "Good," she says. "Anything specific?"

Her teeth find her lip, and she shakes her head slowly, regret settling in her stomach.

 _There has to be something._

"Well, you say you left to protect Rick from a criminal you felt he needed protecting from," says Dr. Bryan. "You also say you left so you could investigate this man without Rick finding out and putting himself in danger."

She nods, her chin falling to rest in the valley between her knees.

"Your team from a previous job, at the Attorney General's office, was killed. You chose to investigate it for personal reasons, right?"

Her teeth catch her lip again, her nails digging into her shins as she nods again.

 _Right._

"Well then, let's start there. Why did you feel investigating the man behind their deaths was more important than your marriage?" asks Dr. Bryan.

Her heart sinks, tears stinging at her eyes.

"I… I didn't _feel_ that way," she whispers.

Castle's gaze is still locked on her. She still can't bring herself to look at him.

"You didn't?" asks Dr. Bryan.

She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. She doesn't bother wiping them away. "I love Rick. I really do. And I don't…I don't consider anything more important than him," she whispers.

"Then why did you let this case drive you away from him?" asks Dr. Bryan.

A tear falls, lands on knee. "I don't…I don't know," she says. "I just…couldn't let it go."

"Why not?"

She sucks in a quivering breath, tightens her grip on her legs, curling up into an even tighter ball. Her chin stays nestled between her knees, her vision blurred with tears she feebly tries to blink away.

He's still staring at her. She wishes he wasn't.

"Kate, why couldn't you just let the case go and leave it to those responsible for it?" asks Dr. Bryan.

Her heart thunders in her chest, her thoughts a blur of nothing that makes sense. She whispers the first answer that comes to mind.

"Because I wasn't built that way."

She hears Castle sigh, and Dr. Bryan falls silent.

 _I wasn't built that way._

Her heart breaks, the honesty of the statement falling onto her shoulders. Another weight, another painful reality.

She wasn't built that way.

She will _never_ be built that way.

* * *

She sits down on the couch next to him, leaving a cushion between them.

He turns to her, brows raised, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

They don't do this. They haven't been doing this, initiating conversation or contact or sharing space without it being necessary. He's been avoiding her and she's been giving him space, but…space hasn't solved anything. It doesn't solve anything.

 _I should have learned that lesson sooner._

She swallows back a sigh, letting herself fall back onto the cushions, her head landing in her open palm.

"What can I do?" she asks.

His brows furrow now, the confusion etched across his face too familiar at this point. "What can you do to…what?"

"What can I do to make you trust me again?"

 _Because there has to be something._

He sighs, sinking back into the couch cushions, head tilting against the back of the couch. She watches as his hands curl into fists on his thighs.

She clamps her mouth shut, trapping the words that threaten to escape behind her teeth.

He needs to think, so she'll let him think.

 _Just…please have an answer._

"I don't know," he says.

Her heart sinks, disappointment welling in her stomach, nauseating.

He lifts his head from the back of the couch, turns to look at her again. He looks…disappointed. But not with her, this time, and not with the situation.

With himself.

She wants to wipe that feeling away.

 _I'm the one who screwed this up._

"I really don't know, Kate," he repeats. "I thought I just needed you to give up the case, but you've...you've given the evidence to Rita and you've told Vikram you wouldn't be going back more than once and I still can't..."

"Trust me," she finishes for him.

 _Because I left._

"Yeah," he breathes.

She sinks back, deeper into the couch cushions, closing her her eyes against the onslaught of disappointment, the fear of never being able to win him back.

She has to be able to fix this. She has to…

Her eyes slide open, gaze locking on his once again. "Why can't you trust me?" she asks. "I mean, what are you scared of? That I'll leave again? That I'll go back to the case as soon as the baby's born? Something else?"

His mouth opens, closes around an answer she's not sure she wants to hear.

And yet she reaches over, rests a hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me," she says. "I don't want you to…hold back…because I'm your wife, or because I'm pregnant. I know you don't want to hurt me, Castle, but I hurt you when I left and…you telling me what's wrong is the only way we'll fix this."

 _So please, just tell me._

He nods, slow, lips parting once again. "Then yes," he whispers. "I'm scared…that you only came back because of the baby. I'm scared of the possibility of you leaving again."

Her stomach sinks, regret settling in her gut as he turns away, letting his head fall against the back of the couch.

"I just…don't know how we can fix this," he says.

She opens her mouth, closes it again.

Neither does she.

* * *

He's in his office when she gets home, eyes locked on his computer.

She shucks off her jacket, letting the fabric fall from her shoulders before setting it down on the back of the couch. Her bag falls to the floor.

She leaves her shoes on, uses the sound they make to draw his attention as she steps into his office.

The confidence from a good day at work lingers, driving her forward until she's standing in front of his desk.

"I saw Dr. Burke today."

She blurts it out, and his gaze flies from his computer screen to meet hers, his eyes wide.

"You…you did?" he asks.

She tugs at the hem of her shirt, nodding her head just once. "Yeah. I wanted to…needed to talk to someone about my issues, my…problems," she says. "And he was the logical choice, so I booked a last-minute appointment."

He nods, slow and understanding as his hand curls around the edge of his laptop screen and closes the lid. "What did he say?"

"That I have an addiction to justice, and a deep-founded need to…get it for people who otherwise wouldn't…get it…and for the families who lost someone they love."

 _For people like me._

"And that this addiction makes me put cases, put people who aren't as important to me as you are, or as I should be to myself, in front of what really matters," she says. "I prioritize complete strangers over my own family."

Castle nods again, gaze falling, and then flicking back up. "What does that mean…for you?" he asks

She takes a step forward to keep her shoulders and knees from going tense, her lips curling into a small, barely there smile.

"It means I have to keep seeing him, I have to get help," she tells him. "I need to learn to walk away, so that when the baby comes, I don't…"

"Leave," he finishes.

She nods.

 _So that I don't leave._

"So I'm going to keep seeing him. I'm going to learn to put myself and our family first, Castle," she promises. "It might take time. It _will_ take time. But next time something comes around, I'll be able to walk away from it."

He stares for a long time, blinks once.

Her heart pounds in her chest.

And he sighs, head dipping towards his chest. "But you…weren't built that way," he whispers.

"I know," she breathes. "But I can change. I can learn."

"And you're…going to?"

She steps forward once again, reaching down to rest her hand over his on the lid of his laptop. His eyes flick upwards, gaze meeting hers once again.

"Of course I'm going to," she says. "I need to. For myself, so that I don't go and put myself in danger when I don't have to. For you, Castle, so that you can have the wife you deserve, and so you don't have to be scared that I'm going to walk out that door again. And for Cosmo, so that I can be the best mom I can be."

His mouth falls open, his eyes going wide, and insecurity wells in the pit of her stomach.

 _Say something._

She squeezes his fingers gently, watches as his eyes refocus, as a smile curls at his lips.

"Cosmo?" he says. "You call…the baby Cosmo?"

Her heart lifts, her own face breaking into a smile as she nods. "Yeah," she answers. "I call him, or her, Cosmo."

 _And I need to fix this, fix myself for Cosmo._

* * *

 _As always, a huge thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help._


	13. Chapter 13

**Rebirth**

* * *

"So, Kate, we agreed that you have an addiction, correct?"

She leans forward, her elbows digging into her thighs, her head falling into the cradle of her palms. "Correct," she answers. "I have an addiction to investigating, and to fighting to get justice to those who otherwise wouldn't get it, even when it's detrimental my health and my relationships."

 _Even when I might get killed. Even when I might ruin my marriage._

"Exactly," says Dr. Burke.

She sucks in a breath, forces her head up so she's looking at him. "So what do we do now?" she asks.

 _How do we fix this?_

"Well, we've identified the problem, now we need to come up with a plan to help you fix it," he answers.

She sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. "A plan?" she asks, even though she already knows the answer, and Dr. Burke nods. "How long will this take?"

 _How long until I can tell my husband I'm okay?_

"The recovery process can't be rushed, Kate," says Dr. Burke. "We've spoken about this before. You have to give your mind time to heal, and yourself time to adapt to new ways of coping."

"But I don't have time," she tells him. "My marriage is still weak, and in just over six months Castle and I are going to have a _baby._ I need this to be fixed _soon._ "

 _I need this to be fixed before the baby comes. I need this to be fixed before we're beyond repair._

Dr. Burke shifts, leaning forward ever so slightly. "You know that's not an option, Kate," he says. "You have to take your recovery one step at a time."

"But I don't have the time for that," she repeats.

"Yes," says Dr. Burke, "you do."

 _No, I don't. I need to fix this._

"When are you due?"

She looks up, eyes wide. "Huh?"

"Your pregnancy, Kate. When are you due?" he asks again, gaze flicking down to her stomach and then back up.

She shrugs. "June…thirteenth," she answers. "Which make it closer to seven months."

 _Seven months until we have a baby._

"See?" says Dr. Burkc. "You have seven months until your baby gets here. You have time. Will it be enough? I don't know. But you have to try."

She opens her mouth to speak, but any words that might come stay caught in her throat, forcing her to swallow them back.

"You have time, Kate," says Dr. Burke. "You just have to be willing to make the effort."

 _Time. Effort._

"What if I run out of time, though?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

Dr. Burke frowns, his brows furrowing in confusion, his arms crossing over his thighs as he leans forward. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Why would you?"

She sighs. "What if Castle won't wait that long for me to be better?" she says. "What if I lose him before I can…fix myself?"

 _What if I lose him?_

Dr. Burke is silent for a moment before speaking. "Do you love your husband?"

She looks up at him, eyes wide. "Of course I do," she says. "More than anything…except my baby."

"And he still loves you, despite everything?"

Her heart clenches, her teeth catching her lip as she nods. "Yeah," she whispers.

"Then he'll let you take the time you need."

* * *

"I saw Dr. Bryan today."

She looks up, tearing her eyes off the page of her pregnancy book.

He's standing in the entrance, shoulders sagging, eyes sad. Part of her wants to go over and wrap her arms around him, wipe his pain away.

 _Except I'm probably what caused the pain._

"You did?" she asks. "Without me?"

He steps closer, his gaze falling to the floor before flicking back up to her. "I wanted to talk to someone about…why I can't forgive you," he explains.

She opens her mouth, ready to tell him she understands, that she hurt him and him not forgiving her right away makes sense, but he continues before she can.

"I wanted to know why I couldn't just…move on and be happy," he says. "I mean, you're home and you're pregnant and you're trying to fix this and I…I should be able to forgive you."

 _No. Don't think that._

"So you talked to Dr. Bryan about it?"

He nods, stepping even closer, until he's standing at the end of the couch. She pulls her legs back, tugs them under herself so he can sit down. He does, his eyes still locked on hers.

"What did you guys…figure out?" she asks.

 _Can you ever forgive me?_

"Well, she said that it's okay for me to not forgive you right away. That we promised each other forever and then you…left and it's okay for me to be mad," he answers.

"It is."

He shakes his head. "But I love you. And I always thought I loved you unconditionally…that I would love you no matter what."

Her heart sinks.

 _I would love you no matter what._

"And you don't…love me?"

 _God, no._

He looks back up at her, eyes somber. "I still love you, Kate. I will always love you. I just…I should have been able to move on by now," he says. "Maybe not forget, but at least forgive you."

"So why can't you?" she asks.

He sucks in a breath, lets it out slowly. "We came up with two theories," he answers.

Her fingers curl around her knees as she nods, asking him to continue despite the nerves making her stomach churn.

"The first one is that I can't forgive you…because you're pregnant."

She chokes on a breath, pressing her hand hard against her stomach, head dipping until her chin is pressed against her chest.

 _The baby._

In her peripheral, she sees his eyes go wide.

"Wait. Not…it's not that I'm not happy about the baby."

"Then…what?"

He sighs. "We thought that maybe I couldn't accept your apology because part of me thinks you only came back because of the baby," he tells her. "That you wouldn't be here if it weren't for the baby."

 _Oh._

She pushes herself up onto her knees, one hand curling around the back of the couch to keep her from reaching for him, the other still pressed against her stomach.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Castle," she says. "I would probably still be out there, investigating, if I wasn't pregnant."

His face falls, and this time she can't help but reach for him, curl her hand around his shoulder.

"But Castle, you need to know that every day that I was gone, I wanted to come back. I missed you _so_ much," she breathes. "I just…needed a push to make me see what I was doing, that I was letting an addiction control me. And the pregnancy, Castle, that was the push I needed."

 _And I came back to you._

He nods, slowly, his eyes meeting hers once again. "I'm glad," he says. "I'm glad you came back, even if it doesn't seem like it."

She smiles, can't stop it, her hand tightening around his shoulder.

"I'm glad I came back, too," she tells him.

There's silence, his eyes still locked on hers, until she swallows around the lump in her throat and slowly pulls her hand back.

"You said there were, uh, two theories," she whispers. "What was the…other one?"

"Oh," he breathes. "I…Dr. Bryan thinks that part of the reason I'm struggling to forgive is that, subconsciously, I think you were right."

Her mouth falls open, her stomach sinking.

 _No. I wasn't right._

"It's not that I'm happy that you left, or that I don't wish you had stayed," he says. "It's that I know that, had you stayed and still investigated, I would have tried to help. And I probably would have…put myself in danger. And I know that's what you were trying to avoid."

Her eyes wide, jaw clenched, she nods.

He sighs. "I know you were trying to protect me, and in some ways, your reasoning was right," he continues. "I just…I really hate that you lost faith in me."

"I didn't."

His eyes widen, his head tilting so his eyes are locked firmly on hers.

 _I didn't, I promise._

"I didn't…lose faith in you, Rick," she says. "I just…didn't want you to get hurt, or _killed._ I couldn't…I didn't want you to risk yourself for me, because I couldn't walk away."

He stares at her for a long time, long enough for him to take a few slow, deep breaths before reaching towards her. His hand settles on her knee, his thumb tracing a gentle circle over the fabric of her leggings.

"I would do anything for you," he breathes.

Tears well in her eyes, and she blinks them away. "Even now? After everything I put us through?"

"Even now, Kate, I would…" He sucks in a breath, squeezes her leg gently, makes sure her gaze is still locked on his. "I would walk into a tornado for you, Kate."

Her hand lands on top of his as she speaks, her voice shaky with tears, with overwhelming emotion.

"And I would die if I lost you."

* * *

Her pen glides across the page, tracing her name in practiced letters.

She's signing the page, sealing the promises she's making, hoping he'll realize how much she means every single word.

 _Dear Rick…_

She drops the pen onto the desk next to her, letting it roll until its path is blocked. Her fingers skim the edge of the page, tracing it with her nails until her fingertip burns with a cut.

She shakes it off, ignores it, dropping the paper onto the desk.

 _I know I've already apologized for everything I've done, and that you might not want to hear it all again._

Her eyes squeeze shut, forcing tears from the corners of them, and then open again.

She reaches for the page, takes it in her hands again. She's done it before, more times than she can count, but she's careful when she folds down the one side, the bottom third of the paper.

It hides more than half the words, half of everything she needs to say.

 _But if I've learned one thing from all the mistakes I've made in our relationship, it's that I'm not all that great at communication._

She folds over the top of the page, presses the pad of her finger hard against the fold.

Blinking back another wave of tears, she pinches the edges of the page, lifts it off the desk. A letter, folded twice, signed, filled with promises she will do anything to keep, with apologies she can't communicate out loud.

 _So I wrote you this letter, hoping that maybe I'm better with the written word than I am with the spoken._

She pushes herself up from the chair, walks through the office, into the living room. Castle's sitting on the couch, a throw blanket draped over his legs, a book perched in his hands.

She pads over to him, stops only when she's standing at his side, her shadow cast over him.

 _It's not much, but I want you to know so much more than I can explain out loud, so I figured I would write the things I can't say down for you._

He looks up from his book, eyes wide with curiosity.

She holds out the letter, a single, folded piece of paper covered in lines of her handwriting.

"Words are your specialty," she says, her voice soft, shaky as she fights the urge to wipe at the tears welling in her eyes. "But I did what I could."

His gaze drops to the sheet of paper, shaking in her grip.

He takes it slowly, carefully, unfolding it, his book falling aside.

She swallows thickly and turns to leave, unable to watch him read it.

 _Here they are._

* * *

 _As always, a huge thanks goes out to Lindsey for all her help._


	14. Chapter 14

**Rebirth**

* * *

She folds her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her wedding band, when Dr. Bryan asks Castle for details on the letter she wrote him.

And he pulls it out of his back pocket, folded into a small square.

"I can read it for you, if you want," he says.

Kate swallows thickly, twirling her ring around her finger.

Dr. Bryan turns to her, eyes inquisitive as always. "Would you be okay with that, Kate?" she asks.

 _Would I be okay?_

She bites at her lip, nodding slowly. "I…yeah," she breathes.

Dr. Bryan nods, and turns back to Castle. "Would you like to read it?" she asks.

He smiles, half-hearted, weak, and answers by unfolding the paper, smoothing out the creases with the pads of his fingers.

"Dear Rick," he reads aloud, spouting her introduction, her explanation, easily.

A lump forms in her throat, and she squeezes her ring finger, the metal band caught between her fingertips, her hands pressing hard against her stomach.

 _Here they are._

"Today you came home and told me I might have been right, not in my decision to leave you, but in the thought process that led me to make that choice. And I just want you to know, beyond any doubt, that is _not_ true."

Her eyes slide shut, and she presses herself deeper into the couch cushion.

"I'm not somebody who likes to admit that I was wrong. You know that better than anyone. But Rick, I definitely wasn't right. Leaving you…that will never be right."

He pauses. She hears his sigh, can picture the way his eyes fall closed for a second, like he's trying to compose himself.

"The simple fact is that I promised you forever, and then I walked out. I promised you would be my number one, and then I went and put something in front of you. And none of that, Rick, no matter the reason, no matter my motive, will ever be right."

Her eyes crack open, and she turns to look at him as he finishes the letter.

"I made a vow. And then I broke it. And I know that no apology can change that, can fix that. I know that. But I love you, and you love me, and we've already been through so much. We can survive this. We can…be extraordinary again. I was wrong, Castle, and I will do anything it takes to make this better, because I can't lose you."

He doesn't bother reading her name. It goes unspoken as he finishes, dropping the piece of paper so it rests on his thighs.

He's not looking at her. But Dr. Bryan is.

"So," says Dr. Bryan, "you think you were wrong to leave?"

She nods. "I know I was wrong. It just took…finding out I was pregnant for me to realize it," she answers. "For me to see that everything we had…everything we _have_ , that's worth so much more than any case, any amount of justice, anyone, and it was stupid of me to cast it aside…to put something, _anything_ above our marriage."

It's as honest as she can be.

 _Honest and open._

"You were diagnosed with an addiction, though," says Dr. Bryan. "Do you still think you were putting something ahead of it, if your decision is founded in a mental illness."

"Yes."

 _Definitely._

"Care to elaborate?"

She sighs. Her hand curls around her knee, drawing her leg even closer, the ball she's almost curled into growing tighter.

 _Honest and open._

"My father is an alcoholic," she says. "He turned to it after my mom died. And when I got tired of it, I gave him an ultimatum. It was me or the booze. I promised I would do anything to help him get sober. But I wouldn't stand by and watch him…throw his life away."

She turns to Castle, sees recognition wash across his features.

"It's like I gave that ultimatum to myself. It was the case or my marriage, and I chose wrong," she continues. "I chose _so_ wrong, Castle. And I'm so sorry…for making the wrong choice in the first place, for not realizing until I found out about our baby."

He nods this time.

 _He's listening_.

So she inches closer, reaching up to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I just hope…that it wasn't an unspoken ultimatum from you, too. I just hope that–"

"I can forgive you," he finishes.

She nods.

He's quiet for a long time, staring her down, and then opens his mouth to speak, the words so soft, so quiet.

So meaningful.

"I could never give you that ultimatum, Kate," he says, "because loving you, no matter what you've done…that never stops."

* * *

"Are you hungry?" he asks.

She looks up, gaze meeting his, her teeth catching her lower lip.

Since the therapy session earlier, since they were both honest and open, he's been…sweet, happier. Less angry. And she's relaxed, comfortable even. And it feels good.

 _Really good._

Her stomach rumbles, and her lips quirk. "Apparently."

Castle pauses, his hand on the door of the refrigerator and glances at her. "Do you want to help? Make dinner together?"

 _What?_

She stares at him, her mouth falling open. They haven't cooked together in...weeks. She slides around the island into the kitchen.

"Sure."

 _I'd love to._

He smiles, small…almost shy. She can't help but mirror it as she brushes past him, heading for one of the cabinets. He watches her as she stands on her toes, grabs a couple of wine glasses.

"Ka–"

"I know," she huffs.

No wine. Not tonight, at least. This feels too big, too important to let it be complicated with any alcohol.

She walks past him again, goes for the fridge this time, and pulls out the jug of milk.

He's still watching her as she fills both glasses, and he's smiling when she turns around and offers him one.

The way his fingers brush against hers bring her back to days when that was all they had, fingers brushing over coffee cups.

 _Now we have so much more._

"So," he breathes, "a smorelette for you and the baby?"

She can't help her smile, the heat that blooms across her cheeks. "That would be great," she whispers. "I'll cut up some fruit?"

He just nods, letting her slip past him and deeper into the kitchen to do her part.

It's familiar. Warm and happy and comfortable. The silence is sweet, a reminder of what they once had. A reminder that they're getting back to where they were.

 _Together_.

"Castle?"

"Kate?"

They speak at the same time, and she drops her knife onto the counter, apple slices falling apart between her fingers. He's looking back at her, his eyes wide, the slightest of smiles drawing at the corner of his mouth.

 _Together_.

"Yeah?" he asks.

She opens her mouth, ready to tell him to start. Her questions slips out instead. "What you said today, about never being able to give me an ultimatum, did you mean that?"

He sighs, setting down the spatula as he turns to face her. "Of course I did," he says. "I…I've tried to stop loving you. Not while you were gone…but a few times after we fought. And Kate, here we are."

 _Here we are._

She sucks in a slow breath. "And where is…here, exactly?"

He steps closer, his hand reaching out for hers. She curls her fingers around his and squeezes gently.

"Here is…recovering," he breathes. "And loving each other, despite everything."

 _Here._

Her heart thuds with it, and she takes a step closer to him.

"Here is…"

He trails off, drawing her even closer. She can feel the warmth of his body, familiar and foreign all at once. The tentativeness is new, something that faded after their first few days together. Something that's back now.

She's not sure if she loves it or hates it.

 _Here._

Her eyes drop from his eyes, the pounding of her heart growing faster, more insistent as her gaze locks on his mouth. On his slightly parted lips.

His hand is still wrapped around hers, and he squeezes her fingers gently.

 _Here._

Her eyes dart up again, just long enough for her to catch that he's staring at her mouth, too, before she looks back at his lips and leans in closer.

 _Here_.

And then there's a knock on the door. Loud and insistent and it has her jumping back, tugging her fingers from his grasp.

They almost kissed. For the first time in months…

Her legs feel weak, but she forces herself to walk past him, to head for the door as the second round of knocks rings through the loft.

 _They almost kissed._

She probably shouldn't be answering the door, and yet she reaches for the knob and flings it open, words she can't think through curling at the tip of her tongue.

They die in her mouth when she sees who it is.

 _Vikram._

* * *

 _This story - Lindsey = a ton more typos, sentences that make no sense, pointless scenes and just overall terrible so she deserves all the thanks in the world._


	15. Chapter 15

**Rebirth**

* * *

"Oh, good, Beckett, you're home."

She frowns, blocking Vikram's entry to the loft with her body, her hand reaching out to curl around the door and draw it closer to her.

"What do you want?"

 _Why are you here?_

Vikram smiles, and he holds up his tablet, an exact replica of the old one, the screen black.

Her heart sinks, dread swirling in her stomach.

 _No. No. No._

"I recovered all the progress we made," he says. "I mean, I know it wasn't much, but it was a little. I thought you might want to help, since he have our starting point now."

She swallows thickly. "I'm not interested, Vikram," she says.

 _I can't._

His face falls, but his lips part around words she doesn't want to hear. Words she's not sure she could handle hearing.

"I can't."

She says it before he can speak, and watches his eyes go wide. But her heart swells, falls back into a steady rhythm. Her grip on the door tightens and she draws it closer to her, framing herself with it and the wall.

 _I can do this._

"But Beckett, what about everyone who died?" he asks. "What about all the people he had killed. McCord? Hendricks? They were your team, your _friends_."

She nods. "They were," she says. "And now they're dead, and there's nothing I can do to change that."

It comes out shaky, weak. But it comes out all the same and she can't help the pride that has her straightening her spine.

 _I can do this._

"What about justice, then?" he asks.

Her heart stutters, breath escaping her on a sigh.

Vikram steps closer, and she steps back.

"You can't bring them back from the dead, but you can bring them justice, just like you did for your mother, just like you have for so many other murder victims," he says. "We can do this."

She shakes her head. "We can't. I can't," she says. "It's not my job. It's not my place, Vikram. There are people out there doing exactly that, trying to get justice for them. Let them do it."

 _Please._

Except he doesn't let it go.

"LokStat helped Bracken," he says. "And Bracken had your mother killed. LokStat helped him do that, helped him run his drug rings, helped him get the money he needed to hire contract killers."

She swallows thickly, the image of her mother, dead in that alley, flashing through her mind.

The memory of the day she got shot…

 _Kate, I love you. I love you, Kate._

She blinks, shakes her head to force the image away, her eyes locking on Vikram's once more. "That's not my job," she repeats. "Besides, if I was to put everyone who helped Bracken with money in jail, New York state would have a much smaller population."

"But–"

 _I can do this._

"No," she cuts him off, and her spine straightens again, pride making her breath quicken. "I'm _not_ going back, Vikram. I'm _not_ going to investigate LokStat. I'm not going to make that choice again. I _can't_ make that choice again."

She turns towards Castle, just to see him, just for the reassurance his presence offers.

He hasn't moved.

 _I can do this._

Her eyes lock on Vikram again, to find him _finally_ looking like he understands.

"I have a family," she breathes. "I have Castle, and Alexis, and my dad, and Martha and the baby, Vikram, and I can't leave them again. I can't…I never should have in the first place, and I'm…I'm here to stay."

 _I need to stay._

"Beckett–"

She clutches the door tightly. " _No,_ " she says again, the word coming out louder, more definitive than she thought it would.

But recognition draws on his features, and she can't bring herself to regret.

"And Vikram, if you continue to approach me for reasons unrelated to your responsibilities at the precinct, you will lose your job."

His face falls, and he opens his mouth as though to argue. But nothing comes out before he turns away and walks back down the hall, his shoulders sagging, his tablet pressed against his side.

She doesn't pause, doesn't wait to feel bad before showing the door closed.

 _I did it._

She sucks in a breath to steady herself before turning around to face the apartment, to face Castle. Her heart is pounding now, her head spinning, anxiety making butterflies flutter unpleasantly in her stomach.

He's staring back at her, silent, and her hand trails over her stomach, clutches at the fabric of her shirt.

"You okay?" she asks, the words shaky.

 _Are we still on the right track?_

He nods. "Yeah. I just…uh, your smorelette is ready, if you're still hungry," he replies, his eyes darting to where a plate is sitting on the counter.

She isn't hungry. Not anymore, and yet she nods, stepping towards him.

Because something is telling her this isn't a meal she should refuse.

* * *

He's silent through dinner, and it's completely unsettling.

She watches him, poking at her smorelette while he eats his, and the chuckle that would usually come at his milk mustache never does, because her heart is pounding. Her hand is shaking, her fork loud as it clinks against her plate.

 _Say something._

She takes another bite, forcing herself to swallow. It's almost nauseating. Her appetite is gone, replaced with a churning in her stomach that reminds her too much of morning sickness.

 _Anything._

He takes another sip of his milk, and this time he wipes at his upper lip with the back of his hand before setting the glass back down.

And then his eyes, wide and blue, are locked on hers and anxiety races up her spine.

 _Anything._

"You okay?" he asks, his voice soft, caring.

 _Not angry._

She nods, even though she's not sure she is. "Are _you_?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he says, brows furrowing.

She shrugs, letting her fork fall to the table. "I don't know," she mumbles. "But you've been quiet since Vikram left and, Castle, if you're upset that I'm still going to be seeing him…I mean, he works at the precinct and I don't quite have grounds for firing him, but I can see what I can do."

He smiles, but shakes his head ever so slightly. "I'm not in control of who you see, Kate, and definitely not of who works in your precinct."

She's not sure if it's relief or worry that makes her stomach twist.

"Then why are you so quiet?" she asks. "Castle, what's wrong?"

 _Please, just be honest with me._

"Nothing's wrong," he says. "You _stayed_."

Her brows furrow, and she reaches across the table, her hand hurriedly wrapping around his.

"Of course I stayed," she tells him. "I…I need you. I need our family. I'm not leaving again, Rick."

He smiles this time, and her heart lifts with tentative hope.

"I know," he says. "Vikram, as much as I hate him, said all the right things. He mentioned your friends, he told you to fight for justice, he even brought your mom's case into it and you stayed, Kate. _That's_ why nothing's wrong."

"Because I stayed?" she asks.

She needs to hear it. She needs to hear him say it.

 _Just say it._

He doesn't, though. Not right away. Her hand still curled around his, he stands, tugging her with him. She follows his lead, her knees weak as she takes a slow, shy step towards him.

His thumb drifts across her knuckles.

"Everything's not just fixed," he breathes. "Not yet. But Kate, I really thought you were going to leave for a moment, when Vikram was here and you…you didn't."

"I know," she says. "I told you. I told him, Castle, I can't just leave you again. I can't do that to our baby, or to you…or to myself, and nothing Vikram says can change that."

 _Nothing_.

"Exactly," he breathes. "You…have an addiction, and you're working on it, and you handed the evidence over to Rita, and I hate that it took this long, but just…watching you turn him away when he said all the right things to get you to leave,, Kate, it's like…" He trails off.

"You can trust me again?" she whispers after a few seconds, her voice quivering with nerves.

His eyes lock on hers again. "Yeah," he says. "It's like…all those tiny steps we've taken, and finally I know that when I wake up in the morning, you're going to be here, and that the next big case won't steal you away. And things aren't perfect, and we're not back where we were, but I can trust you again and I can forgive you and…I love you, so much."

 _I can trust you. I can forgive you._

"I love you, too."

The breath that escapes her is shaky and wet, her eyes burning with tears. Her grip on his hand tightens, leaves her squeezing desperately.

And he's stepping forward, pulling her closer to him. His free hand comes up to frame her face, to tilt her chin upwards.

 _I love you._

His lips land on hers, soft and sweet, his thumb brushing the ridge of her cheekbone, and she sinks against him. Her own hand comes up to wrap around his neck, her fingers playing with the hairs at his nape.

And then she pulls away, her eyes opening to his.

"Castle," she whispers. "Are you sure?"

He smiles. "I'm sure, Kate," he breathes.

 _I'm sure._

He kisses her again, less gentle this time, his teeth catching her lower lip, his tongue slicking against hers. She grasps at his shoulders, finally letting her hand fall from his to curl around his arm as he clutches at her waist, pulls her flush against him.

It's only when her legs hit the edge of the table that she realizes what they're doing, and she rips her lips from his.

His forehead falls against her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her.

"It's too soon," she whispers. "We just…got _here_ and it's…it's too soon, Castle."

 _No matter how much I want to._

He lifts his head, his eyes meeting hers. "I know," he says.

And he falls silent, staring at her as she stares back at him until his breathing falls steady and her heart rate slows and he leans down to press a quick peck to her lips.

"You know what I've wanted to do ever since I found out you're pregnant?" he asks, the words quiet in the inches between them.

"What?"

He smiles, and leans in to press another gentle kiss to her lips. "This," he breathes.

She watches, her hands still on his shoulders as he kneels down in front her. His hands drift down from her waist to slip beneath the hem of her shirt and lift it over her belly.

Her eyes water when he presses a kiss just below her navel, his lips forming words against her skin that she can't hear.

He looks back up at her, and she can't help but return his smile.

"And talk to our baby," he whispers.

And her heart lifts as she squeezes his shoulder, nods her head and lets him stand and lead her to their bedroom.

 _Our baby._

* * *

 _Once again, a huge thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help with this story._


	16. Chapter 16

**Rebirth**

* * *

She wakes up to warmth, familiar and comfortable, and she lets out a contented sigh.

He's wrapped around her, his chest pressed against her back, one arm under her head, the other draped over her waist. His palm is splayed over her belly, over the tiny bump she knows he loves and she can't help the smile that spreads across her face.

"Good morning," she whispers.

He hums and presses his lips against her shoulder. "Good morning."

 _Very good._

Her hand drags across the bed, trails down her side and she laces her fingers with his, presses his hand more firmly against her baby bump.

"You know what today is?" she asks, her voice still low.

He smiles against her neck. "Today is the last day of your first trimester," he answers. "Which is why I made you something."

 _Huh?_

Her brows lift as he rolls away, lets her fall onto her back. He crawls out of bed, disappears from their room and reappears with a plate in one hand and a glass of milk in the other.

She doesn't even need to see what's on the plate to know, her smile widening.

"You're taking good care of us," she says, reaching out for the plate as he kneels on the bed next to her. "I…uh, thank you."

 _For everything_.

She takes in the scent of the smorelette before the first bite, and he watches her, smiling. She lets her eyes fall closed, doesn't even bother trying to hide the moan that escapes her.

"Cosmo still takes after me?" he asks.

Her eyes crack open and she swallows the bite. "He or she _is_ half yours, you know," she reminds him, and her heart leaps when he nods.

 _Our baby_.

"Speaking of which, I have that appointment later," she continues. "And I want you to come with me, since you didn't get to come last time. If you want to, that is."

His eyes go wide, and he reaches over, settles a hand on her knee. "If I want to?" he asks. "Kate, of course I want to."

Her smile widens, and she takes a sip of milk before turning back to him. "And Dr. Fields is pretty cool. Maybe, if you're willing to pay extra, you could convince her to run another ultrasound? You know, without the threat of…losing our baby."

 _Our baby._

His eyes flash somber for a moment before meeting hers again, his smile stretching across his face once again. "Kate, I would pay anything to see our baby again," he promises. "Especially…given the circumstances."

Her nod is slow, her heart sinking for a moment at the reminder of _everything._

Everything they've done. Everything they still have to do.

She finishes the smorelette in silence, and swallows the last sip of milk before setting both the plate and the glass on the nightstand.

She turns back to him, and he squeezes her leg.

"Hey," he breathes, and he leans up, presses a gentle kiss to her lips. "Here's to a better second trimester."

She smiles, reaching down to wrap her hand around his. "Here's to a better second trimester," she echoes.

* * *

Dr. Fields circles the wand on her stomach, spreading the gel and a shiver runs up her spine.

"Cold?" asks Castle, his hand squeezing hers.

She turns to him, a slight smile curling at the corners of her mouth. "Yeah, but it's okay," she whispers. "It's worth it."

He nods, smiling back at her, his thumb drifting over hers gently. "Yeah?" he breathes. "I'm glad…I get to be here this time."

Her smile falls.

 _This time_.

"Thank you, for letting me be here, Kate," he says. "After everything I put you through."

She shakes her head, squeezing his hand gently. "No, Rick. After everything _I_ put _you_ through, thank _you,_ " she echoes. "Seriously, Castle, I'm so glad you're here."

He leans down to dust a kiss to her knuckles. "I know," he whispers.

 _I love you._

That's when Dr. Fields pipes up, pressing the wand harder against her stomach. "And there you go, guys," she breathes. "There's your baby."

She turns, her eyes locking on the screen. It's that same fuzzy grey, but the image is more clear this time. No longer a tiny jelly bean, but a tiny baby.

Dr. Fields reaches out, her finger landing on the screen. "There's the head," she says, her hand tracing the outlines of the image, "and their nose." Her finger drifts across the screen. "And here's the body. Looks like he or she is curled up in a ball."

Her lips part on a sigh that comes out shaky, watery, and she turns to see Castle smiling wide at the image, tears welling in his eyes.

"That's our baby," he breathes.

 _Our baby_.

And then he turns to Dr. Fields, worry flashing in his eyes. "Does everything still look okay, since the…scare?"

Her heart sinks, and her head flips back to face her doctor, her eyes going wide with worry. The miscarriage scare…that was a few weeks ago now, but still…

"Everything looks perfect," says Dr. Fields. "Your baby seems to be on track, development wise and," she pauses, adjusts the wand once again and turns to hit a button on the ultrasound machine, and sound fills the quiet exam room, "the heartbeat is strong and steady."

 _Strong and steady._

Her eyes fall closed as she focuses on the sound, the steady whoosh loud in the room, just like it was last time. And tears leak from the corners of her eyes when she forces them open and turns to look at him.

The awe written across his face is like nothing she's ever seen before.

It draws a wide smile to her face.

 _Our baby._

"It's magical, isn't it?" she breathes.

He turns to her, eyes will wide with awe and love and so much more. "It's amazing, Kate. Extraordinary. It's…it's our baby," he breathes. "You're…growing our baby."

"Yeah," she says. "I am."

And though everything's not fixed, though everything's not perfect, in that moment, everything is.

 _Perfect._

* * *

He catches her hand under the table, squeezes her fingers gently, and her gaze meets his.

 _Now?_

Their friends and family sit around the table, Martha next to him, her dad next to her. The boys and Lanie sit at the opposite end of the table, and Alexis between Ryan and her grandmother, a knowing smile on her face.

And Castle nods, slowly.

 _Now._

Her smile stretches wide across her face, her heart skipping a beat as she returns his nod. She drops her fork onto the table to gently skim the fingers of her free hand over her stomach, tightening her grip on Castle with the other.

"Okay, guys, what has you two all smiley?"

She turns towards Martha, her eyes going wide, words caught in her throat. Castle squeezes her hand once more, comforting, soothing, as he turns towards his mother.

"Well, Mother, everyone, Kate and I have some news," he says.

 _Good news._

Excitement buzzes around the table, and pleasant butterflies flood her stomach.

"First of all, we're back together," he tells everyone.

She rolls her eyes. "They already knew that, Castle," she says, tilting her head towards where their hands are still joined before turning to face the rest of the table. "That's not the news," she adds.

"Then what is, Katie?"

 _I can do this._

Her hand presses harder against her stomach, palm splaying over the tiny bump.

 _It's good news._

She smiles. "I'm uh…" she trails off, squeezes Castle's fingers. "We're having a baby."

 _Our baby._

It takes half a second for her father to pull her into a hug, Lanie's squeal of excitement echoing through the room while Martha comments on how she _knew_ she would have more grandchildren.

It's amazing, really, the reaction.

Everything else might not have gone as planned, but this is what she always envisioned. Dinner with their friends and family, excited hugs and questions galore, passing around the ultrasound picture and pulling her shirt tight over her stomach to show off her little baby bump.

 _We're having a baby._

Castle finds her in the kitchen a few minutes later, making herself another cup of tea.

"They seem happy," he whispers.

She turns to him, her brows furrowing. "Did you expect them not to be?" she asks.

He shakes his head. "No, it's not that," he says. "I just…I wish I reacted like that. I wish I had given you the reaction you deserved, that our baby deserved."

"Hey," she breathes. She sets her mug down on the counter, stepping closer to him. "You did give me the reaction I deserved, Castle. You…everything that's happened since I came back, it was all deserved."

He shakes his head, but doesn't argue.

So she steps even closer, reaching for his hand. She presses his palm against her belly, smiles when she sees his eyes go wide.

"It was just a few weeks, Castle," she whispers. "We're back on track now. We're healing. _I'm_ healing and you…you trust me again. And we love each other."

He smiles, nods slowly.

 _I love you._

"And that's all that matters, Rick. It hasn't been easy, these weeks. But we have a lifetime to make things better. To make our happily ever after."

He nods again, and his arm slips around her waist, tugging her against him. Her arms wrap around his neck, his wrapped around her back as he dusts a kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you," he breathes.

She smiles, pressing a quick kiss to his chest. "I love you, too."

And he keeps holding her, his arms tight around her body, the embrace familiar and warm. Comfortable.

 _I'm home._

* * *

 _So, lovely readers, this is the last chapter besides the upcoming epilogue. I hope it was satisfactory. And, as always, a huge thank you goes to Lindsey for all her help with this story._


	17. Epilogue

**Rebirth**

* * *

"You're doing great, honey. Not to rush you but–"

She glares. "Castle, my water broke, my pants are wet and I have a baby pressed against my cervix," she says. "You had better _not_ be rushing me."

He sinks against the door, nodding his head. "Okay, yeah. It's just that your water broke and your contractions are regular and I don't want to be delivering the baby in the car."

"Yeah, well, neither do I."

 _Come on, baby, just wait._

Another contraction, more painful than the others tightens her belly, has her eyes squeezing shut and her hands flying to rest on the bump. She hears the overnight bag hit the floor, and then Castle's standing next to her. He lets her press her head against his chest as he rubs circles on her lower back until she relaxes against him.

"You good?" he asks.

She nods, her forehead pressed against his shoulder.

"That was the worst one yet, wasn't it?" he says, still rubbing her back, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.

"Yeah," she breathes. "And, uh, we really _should_ get going, because as much as you don't want to deliver our baby in the car, I really don't want to _give_ birth in the car."

 _So please, baby, wait._

He nods, and slowly pulls away, draping an arm over her shoulders. She lets him lead her to the door, her steps slow, discomfort making her wince with every one.

But he gets her to the car quickly and helps her into the backseat, sliding in next to her as the driver makes sure he has the right information.

They're going to the hospital.

 _We're going to have our baby._

Her head falls against his shoulder for the ride, her eyes squeezed shut as she bites back groans. And he does what he can, trailing his hand up and down her leg, brushing kisses to the top of her head.

"You're okay, Kate," he breathes. "We're almost there. Don't worry. Just focus on bringing us our baby."

 _Our baby._

When they get to the hospital, he throws her duffel bag over his shoulder and helps her to her feet, leads her inside with an arm around her.

It's only when he sits her down in a wheelchair, insisting it will be easier, that it truly become real.

"Castle," she breathes, reaching out to catch his hand in hers.

He turns to face her, his eyes wide with worry. "You okay?" he asks.

She nods, her smile stretching across her face, hormones making her eyes water. "We're having a baby," she breathes. "We're having our baby today."

 _Our baby._

He smiles back at her and leans down, presses a kiss to her forehead and another one to her lips. "I know, honey," he whispers. "And I'm _so_ excited to meet our little one, but right now, I think we need to get you up to labor and delivery."

"Okay," she breathes, her head bobbing as she lets him go, lets him walk around the wheelchair and start pushing her towards the elevator.

 _We're having our baby._

* * *

She squeezes his hand, rolling her head against the pillow, tears staining the fabric.

"I can't do it," she mumbles. "Castle, it hurts so much. I can't…"

He squeezes her hand, wipes her hair from her face with the other one. "You can, Kate, honey. I know you can."

 _I can't._

"Hey, you survived a gunshot wound to the chest, almost getting thrown off a building, being kidnapped by serial killers," he says, the words soft, whispered close to her ear. "You're so badass you stitched up your own bullet wound, Kate. You can bring us our baby. You just have to push."

 _Just have to push._

"You'll be here the whole time?" she asks, the words coming out on a needy whine as her belly tightens again.

He squeezes her hand once more, pressing a kiss to her head. "I wouldn't miss this for the world," he breathes. "But right now, Kate, you have to push."

 _Just push._

So she does, following Dr. Fields' instructions as she sucks in a breath and presses her chin against her chest, her one hand curled around her thigh, Castle's curled around the other.

It's beyond painful, an intense burn and the tight clench of her muscles, but Castle's there.

He's always there.

"You can do it, Kate. You can do it. Bring us our baby."

He repeats it over and over again, his lips practically pressed against the side of her head.

 _Bring us our baby._

She sinks back against the pillow, her eyes falling closed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Kate, I know it hurts, but you have to push again. Can you do that for me?"

She shakes her head.

 _I can't._

"Yes you can," says Dr. Fields. "If not for me, then for your baby. He or she is almost here, Kate. Just a few more pushes, okay? Do it for your baby?"

 _For our baby._

And she does, again, squeezing Castle's hand as tightly as she can and bearing down until Dr. Fields tells her to take a breath and push again.

 _For our baby._

The relief washes over her like a waves, as overwhelming as the love that blooms in her chest when the loud cry fills the room.

She's crying, sniffling as Dr. Fields rests the baby on her chest and starts rubbing the little one's chest with a towel.

"Congratulations," she says. "You guys have a beautiful baby girl."

She chokes out a sob, her hand landing on the baby— _her daughter's_ —back. She's clumsy, shaking, as she scrambles to adjust the little girl on her chest, to press a kiss to her tiny head.

 _Our baby._

The nurse steals her away too soon, promising to return her as soon as she's cleaned and weighed. Castle takes her empty hand in his, squeezes her fingers gently and leans over to press a kiss to the side of her head.

"You did so good, Kate," he whispers. "So, so good."

"Yeah?" she breathes. "She's so beautiful, Rick."

"I know," he says. "She gets that from you."

She turns to face him, and he kisses her, soft and sweet, his hand still holding hers.

 _I love you._

The nurse returns after just a few seconds, and she tears her hand from his grasp to reach for her little girl. She's wrapped in a blanket, now, with a little pink hat on her head.

"Does baby girl Castle have a name?" she asks.

She turns towards Castle, and then looks back down at the baby girl. "She doesn't look like an Emily," she whispers.

The way he shakes his head is just barely visible in her peripheral. "She doesn't," he agrees. "So, Mommy, any ideas?"

She stares at her baby girl for a second. She's red and blotchy, her eyes half-open and unfocused, dwarfed by the blanket and the hat. So tiny, so precious.

 _So perfect._

"What about Abigail?" she breathes.

"Abigail?" he echoes. "Abby?"

She nods, turning to face him for a moment. He smiles, and reaches out to gently pull the blanket away from their baby's face.

"I love it," he breathes.

She smiles, and leans forward to press a kiss to his cheek before looking back down at their little girl.

"Hi, Abby," she whispers. "Welcome to the world."

* * *

He walks into the room, Abigail in his arms, and she smiles.

"She good?" she whispers.

He nods. "Passed all her newborn tests with flying colors," he breathes. "We have one perfectly healthy little girl, Kate."

 _Perfect_.

Her smile widens, and he sits down in the chair next to her bed, Abby still snuggled against his chest.

"I love seeing you with her."

Her words catch her off guard, has her eyes widening for half a second, her lips parting. But his gaze meets hers, his smile going wide and she sees his grip on their little girl tighten ever so slightly.

"You do?" he asks.

Her teeth catch her lips as she nods. "You're so good with babies, Castle, and I just…this is _our_ baby, _our_ little girl and I just love seeing you with her," she explains.

 _I love my family._

She reaches for him, curls her hand around his, pressed against Abby's side. "When I first found out I was pregnant, Castle, I didn't know if we'd have this," she admits. "I didn't know if we'd have each other and the family I always thought we would have."

His hand shifts under hers, just enough for him to squeeze her fingers. "Hey," he breathes. "We have each other, and the family we dreamed of. It might not have been easy, but we're here."

She nods. "I know," she says. "I just…I can't help but think back to how scared I was that day, and how hard it has been to get here and I'm…really grateful that…we're here, together, with her."

 _That we're a family._

"Me too," he breathes. "So glad, Kate."

Her eyes drift from him to Abby and back up again, her gaze locking back on his. Gently, her tugs her hand from his grasp, uses it to slowly scooch over on the bed.

"Sit with me," she whispers.

He eyes her for moment, along with the empty space next to her before slowly standing up and sinking onto the bed next to her. Abby ends up between them, her head nestled in Castle's elbow, her little eyes closed.

She reaches forward, lets her fingers drift over her baby's face, the thumb brushing the edge of the huge pink bow on her little hat.

 _Our family._

"Rick?" she whispers. "Can I ask you something?"

He turns to look at her, his eyes sparkling. "You just did," he whispers back, teasing.

She reaches up, slaps at his chest gently. "I'm serious, Castle," she says.

"Okay then," he breathes. "You know you can ask me anything, Kate."

 _Anything._

"Okay," she echoes. "I just…I feel like I made a mess of our marriage, and then we fixed it, but I just…I want more. I want it to be…even better."

He nods slowly, his brows furrowing.

"So, uh, Rick, will you marry me?"

It's a whisper, so very soft as her heart stutters against her ribs.

But he smiles, sweet and happy. "I already married you, Kate."

She fights the urge to roll her eyes when she realizes he's echoing his proposal from the night they got married, but can't keep her smile from growing wider.

"I know," she breathes. "Will you marry me, again?"

He leans over, and answers her with a kiss, his smile smudging against hers as she reaches up to curl her fingers around the fabric at his shoulder.

She pulls away, rests her forehead against his.

"Is that a yes?" she whispers.

He smiles. "That's a yes."

She smiles back at him, presses one last peck to his lips before tilting her head. Her cheek falls against his shoulder, her eyes locking on Abby.

"I love you," she breathes.

He dusks one last kiss to the top of her head. "I love you, too, Kate. I always will."

Her eyes fall shut for a second, open up again when he rests his head on hers. He's staring at Abby, too, at their little baby, at their little family.

 _Always._

* * *

 _And that's a wrap, folks. (I'm not crying, you are. Seriously, I had such a hard time giving up this universe.) Thank you all so much for reading, favoriting, following and reviewing this story. You guys have no idea how much in means to me. It truly kept me going with the story, through all the season 8 hate, so from the bottom of my heart, **thank you**._

 _And Lindsey, working on this with you was so much fun, and asking you to beta the first chapter of this story was quite possibly one of my best decisions since I started writing fanfiction. Not only did I gain a fabulous beta, but a great friend, and I can't even begin to explain how glad I am that you agreed to look over this story. And I can't thank you enough. xx_

 _Callie_


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